I just wanted to ask
by evil minded
Summary: AU / With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it the moment he begins to get interested? And how will teachers and students alike react to any outcome of 'the talk? Story contains BDSM and gay things ... thanks for reading and reviewing ...
1. prologue

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

However, this is not a continue to "Tears falling in darkness" … it is a story by its own … I just have to write something different from time to time to get my mind off the other story … so, in this story I will not update as often as I do with "Tears falling in darkness" … don't skin me for it … I guess once or twice a month maybe …

**Added author's note****:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter one **

**Prologue **

Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and head of Slytherin house – in other words, the dark, tough, cold-hearted and evil dungeon bastard, the one Professor that caused every first and second year student who dared to cross his line of path to wet themselves and every third and fourth year student to burst into tears with his snarky and sarcastic comments and his cold and dark gazes currently was sitting at his desk correcting the first years potions essays on the use of powdered root of asphodel and wormwood, complaining on how insufferable and insolent the brats were. And how stupid.

Well, at least it wasn't Longbottom's essay. He would either die of boredom or of annoyance. There was no single student in this school that managed to write as bad an essay as Longbottom. Not even Potter was as bad at potions as Longbottom was. And that meant something. Even the first years were more talented than Longbottom was. And Longbottom was in his sixth year after all, however he had managed it to get thus far. However he had managed to land himself in his - Snape's - NEWT class in the first place. It really was a riddle to him.

A soft knock on his door cut through the line of his thoughts and he sighed in annoyance. It probably was one of the blasted first-years, carrying a teddy bear in his – or her – arms, crying in a hysteric because he – or she – missed his – or her – blasted mummy – or daddy. Those brats only lived to destroy his life, he was sure of this and after another annoyed sigh he called "enter", desperately hoping his tone of voice would not send the little brat into convulsive sobs. That would be the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight. It had been a tiring enough day already.

Well, it wasn't a blasted first-year who was crying because … yes, well, this blasted homesickness-thing.

Yet – by seeing who actually entered his office, he wished it would have been one of them and he groaned inwardly at his lack of luck today. Not even had he had to deal with Potter during class this morning. No. He had to deal with him just right now as well. Ok, at least the teddy bear wasn't in his arms and he wasn't sobbing.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked, annoyance clearly present in his voice.

Potter stood there, in front of his desk for a few moments and he could tell that the brat definitely was uncomfortable. He smirked inwardly and his mood rose a few steps at the knowledge that not only he had to suffer.

"Uhm …" Potter made a none-coherent sound.

"Eloquent as always, I see." Snape drawled in his usual manner.

"Well, sir …" Potter tried again. "I just wanted to ask you something …" He said, but then stopped again.

"Well?" Snape snapped, gazing impatiently at the sixth year student.

"Well … I … I just …" Snape lifted his eyebrow, clearly irritated at the stuttering Potter gave away. "I just wanted to ask …"

"As much as I love to listen to your incoherent stuttering, Potter, I do not have all evening." Snape growled, casting the most threatening glare at the brat he could master.

"Well, I just wanted to ask you … well, if you knew anything about …" Again Potter broke off, not daring to look into his eyes and Snape growled again in annoyance.

"About what, Potter?" He snapped. "You may ask your question, or you may leave my office. Now!"

"Well, about … about … sex." Potter finished still stammering.

For a moment Snape wasn't sure if he should laugh at the brat or if he should be angry at him, grasp him at the front of his shirt and throw him out of his office with enough force to ensure he never again would dare to enter it by free will. He nearly missed when Potter continued his stammering.

"I mean … well … of course you know … what I actually meant was … uhm … if you could tell me … well … if you knew anything about … about being … uhm … well … being gay …"

"I suggest you leave, Potter. Now!" Snape hissed, leaning forwards and giving Potter his best death glare. He wouldn't deal with some stupid Gryffindor prank, nor with a stupid Gryffindor bet. Well, luckily it had been Potter who had happened to ask him instead of Longbottom. Longbottom would have fainted even before he had knocked onto his door. Then they wouldn't have his answer and no one would have won the bet. Not that he would give them the satisfaction of answering this stupid question anyway. He would not partake in this stupid prank or bet or whatever it was.

"Please, sir." Potter had the nerve to not only stay but to continue with his speech. "I don't know whom to ask otherwise." He said. "Well, I can't ask Ron. He would not take it that well. He is no friend of such things. He doesn't even kiss Hermione. Not even in privacy. And the others in my dormitory, well, they are just too young. They only would laugh and they wouldn't take it seriously."

So, Potter was quite serious about this? He snorted. As if!

"Wouldn't your relatives be more sufficient for such a conversation?" He drawled. Well, he could play this game as well. And he soon enough would find out what exactly was behind this question. He was a spy after all.

"Would I have chosen the teacher who hates me the most to ask this question if I could have gone to my relatives with this?" Potter asked and Snape had to admit that it was quite a reasonable answer. Who would – by free will – ask the teacher who hated him the most about something like this? It wasn't as if Potter had asked him about how to brew a potion correctly for a change. It was about _sex_. Nothing a teenager would really be comfortable with, even if he had asked a teacher who wouldn't have hated him as _he_ hated Potter.

"Apparently not." He drawled. "Then maybe Professor McGonagall? As she is your head of house after all?"

"Uhm … well … I don't think this is such a good idea either." Potter answered, a flush crossing his face. "I mean, what would she know about being gay?"

Snape lifted his eyebrow and Potter seemed to take the hint, his flush deepening a shade. "Not that I want to say you … well …" He stammered. "I just meant … as she is a woman … she wouldn't know anything about … well …"

"Then perhaps the headmaster?" Snape suggested, his voice as cold as ice.

"Sure." Potter answered while lowering his gaze towards the floor. "I can imagine _this_ conversation. 'Don't worry, my boy, we will figure it out for you'. No thank you, sir, but at least this part of my life I wish to decide by myself without his interfering."

Ok. So Potter knew that the headmaster was an interfering old coot and he didn't want to ask him because he feared he would interfere there as well, into a subject that was quite private and should be his own decision. Quite understandable.

Potter seemed at least serious about this. It didn't sound as if it would be a prank the Gryffindors tried to pull. Yet – he couldn't be sure about it now.

"So, pray tell, Mr. Potter, why would you ask – of all teachers – me about such a thing?" He asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, watching Potter with a slightly lifted eyebrow.

"Well …" Potter again stammered. "You are … you are the one who already … who already has a low view of me. I can't run any lower in your opinion, now, can I?"

"You have quite a point, Potter." Snape drawled, knowing well that he just put him down. Yet – as he didn't like Potter – he didn't care.

Potter shrugged his shoulders. "You see what I mean?"

"I quite see it, Potter." Snape snarled. "Yet – it wasn't an answer I am satisfied with."

Again Potter just shrugged his shoulders. "I can't give you another one, sir." He said. "I had to ask someone. And as there isn't any other one whom I actually could ask …"

"So, you think I would waste my time on some stupid teenage hormones and discuss a private subject such as sexuality with a student I actually am loath to teach in the subject that regrettably is already scheduled to me?"

"I don't think so, sir. No." Potter answered with quite a defeated look on his face. "Yet, I just had to ask. I wouldn't have known for sure if I hadn't."

"Well, in this case, good evening, Mr. Potter." Snape drawled. "I am sure you know how to find the door by yourself."

Potter didn't answer to this comment. He just turned and left the office with bent shoulders, the defeated look that had crossed his face earlier now visible in his entire features.

Snape drew his wand when Potter had his back on him and cast a silent spell onto the brat just before he left the office and silently closed the door behind him. Well, at least he now would know what kind of prank Potter tried to pull on him. Not even Potter's father had been as low as to resort to such a prank, about sexuality, nor had any other student thus far. The nerve Potter had!

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room, shuffling his feet all along his way and he wasn't really aware of where he was going until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and gave the password to gain entrance.

Ron and Hermione were sitting on one of the sofas and he at once could tell that they had been fighting – again. Maybe Hermione had tried to kiss him and he had refused. Most likely with a comment like 'we are not of age yet' or 'we are not married yet'. Really, sometimes Ron was as bad as a priest in the medieval times. So how was he supposed to ask him?

"Hi Harry." Ron said, sounding quite relieved at his presence. "Where have you been?"

"Just outside a bit." He answered, not really happy that Ron took him for an excuse to get away from his upset girlfriend.

"Why didn't you ask me, mate?" Ron asked. "I would have come with you."

"I wanted to be on my own for a bit." Harry said, watching the both of them for a few seconds. He really couldn't understand them. He couldn't understand Hermione. How could she be with a person that was as reserved when it came to sexuality as was Ron? There were enough others around at Hogwarts who would have been willing to kiss her. Not that he would do so. Absolutely never.

First, he wasn't interested in Hermione in that way. They were friends. Nothing more.

And second, he wasn't even sure if he was interested in girls at all.

And the only one he could have asked – well, he should have known that Snape would say no. He had been lucky that he had not grabbed him at the front of his shirt and thrown him out of his office.

And Ron – well, he couldn't understand him either. It wasn't that there weren't any others where he could get ideas from of what to do with a girl. There were other couples in the castle after all. And really, he had older brothers. In fact, Ron had a lot of older brothers. And they surely had girlfriends as well. So Ron surely had seen once or twice what to do with them. Yet – he acted as if it was something, well, forbidden. Something that was off limits.

Every one had someone else. And every one was snogging in the corridors or in abandoned classrooms.

Sometimes he thought he was the only one without someone.

But then – what exactly would he do with some fellow students?

He might not have the experience when it came to sex like others, just because he had a maniac hovering at his back who wanted to kill him since he was an infant. And then there was the thing with the philosopher's stone, and then the chamber of secrets. And in third year there had been a murderer on the run who wanted to kill him. Just to turn out to be his godfather. Then the werewolf incident and the shrieking shack. In fourth year there had been the triwizard tournament. In which he didn't want to partake but was forced to, even if he wasn't of age then. And back to last year, well, there had been all those stuff with his nightmares, with his visions, with Dumbledore who wouldn't look at him, the DA and then the fight at the ministry and Sirius dying.

So, when, in Merlin's name, was he supposed to have had any experiences about sex?

Well, ok. There had been the kiss with Cho last year. But really it hadn't been more than a date and a kiss. And really, it hadn't been that nice either. Cho had been crying all the times because of Cederic. And then she had been angry with him. It had gone pretty wrong he had to admit.

However – somehow he just knew that someone his own age would not be what he needed. That he needed someone who was a bit older than he was. Because he just had been forced to grow up a bit earlier than the rest of his fellow students. Because he had been forced to endure much more than some of the others his age.

But how should he get someone who was older if he knew nothing about sex? If he didn't even know which gender he preferred? No one would want to have a damn, stupid virgin that knew nothing about – sex. Well, if someone would want to have someone younger in the first place, that was.

And the only one he could have asked had refused to help him.

Shaking his head in frustration he turned and went upstairs to enter his dormitory. He was tired.

Not really bodily tired, but merely mentally tired.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape again sighed in annoyance while he went to the shower to get ready for bed. And he had to admit, yes, he was really frustrated now. He had been wrong and that was something he wasn't pleased with. He never was wrong about something. Especially not when it came to Potter.

Yet – he _had_ been wrong.

The brat really seemed to be serious about it.

Potter had entered the Gryffindor common room and instead of the question how his conversation with him – Snape – had gone, if he had found out if he was gay or not, Weasley only had asked where he had been. And when Potter had answered that he had been out for a while, Weasley had wanted to know why he hadn't asked for his company.

Well, all in all, they hadn't known where Potter had been. Thus – whether it hadn't been a prank, or it was a prank that Potter tried to pull alone.

Yet – he somehow doubted this. The feelings he had received were, well, quite disturbing. It had been frustration, mixed with self loath and something like isolation, feeling alone. And unsureness. Even something akin to fear and pain he had received. However, Potter felt quite insecure when it came to sexuality.

Well, of course he felt insecure in this area. He was a teenager after all. And they all felt that way in the beginning.

But no. There was more. He just knew it. It wasn't the typical insecurity he had felt. It had been more. The damn brat knew that he was inexperienced. Thinking about the past years, well, he had to admit that Potter maybe hadn't had much time to really get any ideas about sexuality and such things.

He remembered that there had been rumours about Potter and Chang being together last year. But he never had _seen_ them together. And the rumours soon had died down.

But really. What would cause Potter to ask _him_ of all people?

Ok, Potter had told him that he couldn't fall any lower in his opinion.

And well, he'd had quite a point in that. But did he think being gay was something that was – disgraceful and outrageous? Something that was despicable? There were much more gay couples in the wizarding world than there were in the muggle world. Here in the wizarding world they even could bond. It was quite a normal thing.

And then. Somehow he had to admit that it disturbed him that Potter felt he couldn't fall any lower in his opinion. It wasn't quite like Potter.

James Potter would have thought that he was the most popular student within the castle, never mind if it concerned the opinion of the students or the opinion of the teachers. James Potter never would have thought that there might have been a teacher – or a student – who thought low of him. James Potter had even been sure that he – Snape – who openly despised him, secretly thought high of him.

But Harry Potter not only thought that he loathed him – with which he was quite right about – but he also thought that he thought low of him, so low, that he could not fall any lower if asking such a question. And that quite disturbed him. He might not like Potter, he really might even loath him, but that was something different.

Giving away sarcastic comments to frighten the little snots was one thing, and growling at them during lessons was one thing too, but adding to their insecurities – that was another thing. He wouldn't have had it if a teacher would do so with his Slytherins, and he shouldn't have done so with Potter either.

And thus - sighing in frustration he went to bed to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day. Tomorrow would be Friday, and that always was a long day as he had double potions with the first years Gryffindors and Slytherins and then with the first years Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in the morning and then double potions with the same groups just second years. And really, the first and second years were the worst of all.

Well, he at least _tried_ to go to get some sleep.

But whenever he closed his eyes he felt something coming from Potter.

Fear. Raw and pure fear. Terror. Frustration. And – insecurity. Even pain.

Damn! Wasn't the brat meant to sleep by now? It was half past midnight. Why didn't the brat sleep? He was supposed to have classes tomorrow. He should sleep now! And what in Merlin's name was he doing? Was he banging his head against the wall in his dormitory?

Turning in his bed he sighed in frustration, just when he realized that Potter indeed _was_ sleeping. The damn brat _was_ sleeping, he just was dreaming and he shot up in his bed.

But how was that possible? The spell should have ended by the time the brat had fallen asleep. He should be free of Potter's feelings and thoughts by now. This spell was not supposed to follow into the unconsciousness of sleep. So – why did it anyway? How was he supposed to get some sleep if he was plagued by Potter's dreams? And such unwelcomed dreams after all? Dreams that contained fear and frustration and pain? Why couldn't Potter have drams like every other teenager had?

Well, ok, maybe it was better this way. He didn't want to feel Potter … no, surely not.

Yet - he wondered why the spell had not stopped when Potter had fallen asleep. It normally should have done. It never went into a sleeping, nor into a dreaming state of mind.

He couldn't see what exactly Potter was dreaming. It was like before, he only could feel what Potter felt. He could even hear what Potter heard. And see what Potter saw. But nothing more. And right now Potter wasn't hearing anything, nor was he seeing anything, he was just dreaming. But what he dreamed of, or better, what he felt in his dreams, was just disturbing.

Damn, the entire brat was disturbing.

Maybe he should get up and wake Potter, give him a dreamless sleep potion, just to ensure that he himself could get a few hours of sleep. But then, no. it would bring up some unpleasant questions. As to how exactly he knew that Potter had a nightmare right now - just for example. He better didn't risk such.

Well, he just as well could get up and some work done in his laboratory.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The next morning came and found a tired Harry Potter and a grumpy Potions Master.

Harry went down the stairs from the Gryffindor tower and into the great hall for breakfast. Not that he really was hungry.  
Well, yes, he was. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to stomach anything now. He never was at the beginning of a new term. And he knew he just would throw up if he ate anything now. What he always hated. So, better not risking anything.

But he also knew that Ron and Hermione would ask him were he had been if he didn't show up for breakfast. Even if he wouldn't eat anything anyway. But this didn't bother the both of them. They just seemed to notice if he wasn't present. As if they really cared. They were much too absorbed in their quarrelling as if they would notice him just drinking his tea and he sighed. Why had he to be the famous Harry Potter? Why couldn't he be just Harry? Why couldn't he be a normal boy that had no other problems than his homework, his next classes and when he would be able to snog his girlfriend next time?

Shaking his head he went over to the Gryffindor table and seated himself next to Ron and Hermione, trying to ignore their quarrelling and trying to ignore the head table, knowing that Snape was sitting there as always.

He was angry at himself. Why had he gone down into the dungeons yesterday evening to ask Snape of all people such an embarrassing question? Well, of course he really couldn't fall any lower in Snape's opinion and he knew it. But really, now he had to deal with a Snape that not only loathed and despised him but who would laugh at him now too.

He really should have known better.

Snape on the other hand was sitting at the head table, watching the students as always. But this morning his eyes were drawn more than just once towards the Gryffindor table. Just to search out one Potter. He had felt those disturbing fear and pain the entire night coming from the brat. And if he was honest with himself, then he wanted to know why.

He had been angry at first because Potter now had not only disturbed his lessons with his presence but his sleep as well. But then – well, it had been _him _who had cast this spell onto the insufferable brat. It really wasn't Potter's fault at all, not this time at least.

But that was not the only reason for his uneasy this morning. He felt quite guilty for his words yesterday, when he had confirmed Potter of being right about him being not able to fall any lower in his opinion. It really wasn't anything he should have said. But when it came to Potter, he just lost his temper much too easily.

And – well, it had been a simple question Potter had asked of him. About sexuality, yes, but he was a teacher after all. And he was supposed to be able to handle such. Even if it came from Potter. And if Potter really hadn't anyone else to ask such about – well, why should he refuse? It wasn't as if Potter had asked him to invite him into his bed.

He shook his head at his thoughts. As if he ever would.

Well, he would see the brat's reaction when the owls arrived. He had made up his mind during his first cup of tea this morning before he got ready for breakfast and he had written him a note.

Watching Potter again he noticed that the brat wasn't eating anything for breakfast. He just sat there, his shoulders slumped as always and both his hands curled around the cup of tea as if they were cold. The brat looked tired and exhausted and he snorted. Of course he looked tired. He hadn't had a really healthy sleep from what he had felt coming from the boy.

And he looked thin too. Again he snorted. Of course he looked thin if he didn't eat three full meals a day. Going to classes without breakfast wasn't what he considered healthy either.

But somehow he had a feeling that there was more. Well, Potter surely could not be exhausted from classes as the term had started just yesterday. Nor could he be exhausted from learning in the first place as Potter refused to learn anything during the year anyway. And yet – he definitely was exhausted. And tired. And well, he couldn't put a name to it, but somehow he knew this look. He had seen it before. He just couldn't remember where. But it somehow disturbed him.

Even if he never would admit it.

The sound of owls delivering the morning post got him out of his thoughts and he watched Potter's startled face when his – Snape's – dark owl delivered the note he had sent to the brat.

_'Mr. Potter,_

_if you still are serious about your question, then meet me tonight at eight in my office._

_S. Snape'_

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Snape will have 'the talk' with Harry. At least he begins with it … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you _…_


	2. first questions and no answers

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_The sound of owls delivering the morning post got him out of his thoughts and he watched Potter's startled face when his – Snape's – owl delivered the note he had sent the brat._

_"If you still are serious about your question, then meet me tonight at eight in my office."_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter two **

**First questions and no answers**

Snape was – yet again – sitting in his office and questioning himself how in Merlin's name he had gotten himself into this mess. Talking to Potter. By free will. And about sexuality above all.

In other words – giving Potter, a Gryffindor – _'the talk'_.

He shuddered.

Why hadn't he just stuck to his original plan and had declined? Why had he _had_ to think it over during the night? He could have forgotten about the incident and he could have been left alone. But no.

He'd _had_ to think it over and he'd _had_ to decide to give Potter – _'the talk'_.

He shuddered again. Sometimes he really questioned his own intelligence. But then he sighed defeated.

It had to be done, and honestly, in one thing Potter had quite a point. If he had no one else to ask, then – well. Be it him.

Of course it wasn't the first time he did this. He was a teacher after all, a teacher on a boarding school, not to mention a head of a house. And of course the children came with such kind of questions. And – well, of course it was his duty to answer them. To give them - _'the talk'_.

But normally only his Slytherins came to ask him such questions. The other students had their own head of house to bother them with their teenage hormones. And honestly, they wouldn't come to ask _him_ by free will anyway. His reputation was far too bad for such. He was feared and shunned by the other houses, as were all Slytherins. They never would dare – no, they never would even _think_ about asking _him_ such a question.

Except for Potter, it seemed.

And normally the students who would, his Slytherins, they just asked about sex in general. Not about – homosexuality and he feared where this might lead to.

Again he sighed. Sometimes Albus didn't pay him enough, really.

When he heard a soft knock on his door he ran his hand over his face before he steeled himself for the inevitable and got his composure back under control, his indifferent mask back in place. It was eight.

"Enter." He answered the knock, his voice frustrated but firm.

Looking up from the essay he was about to mark he watched Potter entering his office, as unsure as the day before and just walking half the way towards his desk and he sighed – yet again, for the third time during not even three minutes. Did Potter think he would bite him? Or cut him into pieces to store him as potions ingredients?

Shaking his head he watched the sixteen year old standing there, in the middle of his office, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his robes. He hated such conversations. And now he had one with Potter of all people.

Well, he would try to be as civil as possible in order to get this over with as quick and as good as possible.

"Sit!" He said, pointing at the chair in front of his desk before turning back to the essay he was currently correcting. He would finish this one and at the same time give Potter the chance to get used to the situation at all. He knew that most of the students whom he gave the talk were quite uneasy with the situation and he guessed that Potter made no exception.

Well, considering the teen's reactions yesterday – he _surely_ was no exception.

Sometimes it really wasn't worth to be the head of a house, he thought. And such times, when the students came with such questions, it definitely was one of such times. He was a just too private man to discuss sexuality with his students. Not to mention the fact that his view of sex was not one that one would consider, well, simple. And that he indeed did prefer partners that were the same gender as he was. In other words, to silently answer Potter's question – yes, he knew a few things about being gay.

When he had finished the essay and the parchment was covered with red ink to his satisfaction, overlaying the original black colour of ink in which the work had been written in the beginning, he laid his quill aside, placed the parchment on the side of his desk and then leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in front of his chest and watched Potter for a moment.

"What exactly do you want to know, Mr. Potter?" He asked, just to begin somewhere.

"Uhm … well … dunno …" Potter stammered and Snape growled inwardly.

"What do you know about sex in general?" He then asked, noticing the blush that crossed Potter's face.

"Uhm …" Came the answer again, the one that annoyed him to no end, never mind from which student it came. He preferred coherent words.

"Well?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow but otherwise forcing himself to stay calm and patient. It was clear that Potter wasn't really comfortable with the situation. Well, they never were.

"Well … uhm … not much …" Potter stammered, not looking at him but onto some point at the floor shortly in front of the desk.

"That is not the answer I expected, Mr. Potter." Snape said. "But I will leave it by this, for now at least. However, in future, note that I prefer coherent and eloquent sentences and to have eye-contact when speaking to a student."

The brat nodded. He only nodded. There was no verbal answer and he still looked at the floor in front of his desk. Snape gritted his teeth in frustration. Strangling the students surely would be out of question, now wouldn't it?

"Well, there were rumours that you have been dating Miss Chang last year." Snape said, he had to begin somewhere. Talking to one of his Slytherins whom he knew quite well was much easier than talking to a student from another house, he noticed. "How far did this dating go, if I may ask."

Harry shook his head. "It was only one date actually." He then answered – five words in a row that were actually coherent - for Potter. "And there happened nothing besides of holding hands in a tea shop and a kiss during which Cho was crying because of Cederic."

Ok, that was an entire sentence Potter had voiced and thus – it was quite an improvement.

"So, in other words, Miss Chang used you to get over Mr. Diggory and to find out what exactly she wanted." Snape mused, sure that he was right and at the same time agitated at the fact that Potter had been used like this. He might not like Potter, and Miss Chang might have been mourning, but that didn't give her the right to act as she had done.

"Hm …" Potter made, not really ready to admit that he was right.

Severus sighed in frustration. Well, this was going to be complicated. Apparently Potter knew absolutely nothing. He hopefully had not to explain him the difference between girls and boys to start with.

"Well, Mr. Potter." He sighed. "You surely know that you could have sex with girls as well as with other boys. Otherwise you would not have asked me about being gay."

Harry nodded, not able to keep the blush out of his face. It definitely was one thing asking Snape – of all people – to talk to him about sexuality. But it was another thing really doing this. It was a difference as large as there was between fire and water. And somehow he wasn't able to act as his normal self. That was just awkward, and it was just embarrassing.

"However," Snape continued, "never mind which gender you chose, the first and most important thing to express is – how important safer sex is. Do you know how to initiate a correct preservation spell?"

Well he did not really have to see the shaking of Potter's head. The dumbfound face he made was enough. He didn't know anything about this. He would have used a condom – if he had thought of preservation at all. He sighed. He would have to teach Potter to cast this spell. Why couldn't Albus just schedule a class for sexual education for students from fifth year and above?

"You, of course, could use a condom to avoid pregnancy as well as sexual diseases as I am sure both would not be in your intention. But a preservation spell is much safer. If you decide on using condoms notwithstanding, then never trust those others might carry with them. You never know how old they are, nor if they are still intact. Use only your own and make sure they are usable. They will not keep you safe if they are broken or out of date. Nor would they keep your partner safe then either."

Again Potter nodded and he was quite glad that the brat didn't ask a lot of questions. Yet – if he _had_ questions, then he really _should_ voice them.

"Do you have any questions about that?" He asked, forcing his voice to stay calm and patient.

Potter slightly shook his head, his blush deepening and Snape had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. Teenagers really were so reserved when it came to sexuality.

"However, a preservation spell has the opportunity that it not only would be safer, but you had not to bother with changing them during sex as you would have with a condom. Also the spell would allow you to feel the actual sexual relation more intensive as you do not have a disturbance between the skin contacts."

Well, at least Potter wasn't giggling like some of the girls he'd had sitting there during the years. Luckily mostly the parents gave them 'the talk', but sometimes this seemed to be impossible and then they came to ask one of the teachers. And as he was the head of Slytherin house, well, he sometimes had to deal with some of the girls from Slytherin asking him about sex. A few times even with one of the boys but that were rare occasions as they mostly educated each other in the dormitories. He better didn't think of the kind of education they practiced there, but that was neither here not there right now. And well, he really didn't know what was worse, the giggling of the girls or the stupid grin from the boys. Potter luckily did neither. Just his eyes widened in shock at his last comment and he shook his head.

"You surely are aware of the fact that – as a wizard – you will be able to conceive without preservation. As can your partner if you chose a wizard as such."

At the startled look on Potter's face he knew that this had been new to him and – well, he now was glad that Potter actually _had_ asked him. Most wizards knew this but he nevertheless mentioned it to his students just to remind them how important preservation was. However, Potter had not known and he probably would have run headlong into pregnancy before he had even graduated.

Shaking his head he sighed. "You didn't know this, Potter?" He asked and he again had to sigh in annoyance. Why couldn't Albus do such things, or Minerva? Why had it always to be him?

"However." He continued. "I am sure you see how important it is to practice safer sex. Not only to avoid pregnancy, but to avoid sexual diseases as well. Just think of aids. You could die from it. I guess you see the point."

Potter again nodded without questioning anything and Snape shortly wondered if he had lost his voice at all. "Any questions?"

A shaking of Potter's head.

"Well, then to the preservation spell itself." Snape said sighing. "As you surely will not have your wand in your hand during sex, it is a spell that is cast without a wand. Wandless magic might be not easy in general, but as even hormonal teenagers such as you are in need of this spell, it is quite an easy one. I am sure even you will manage to initiate this one. The spell is _securus incestus_."

Again – just a nod.

"Repeat it, Mr. Potter." Snape drawled impatiently. "_Securus incestus_." He repeated the words just incase Potter had not understood them.

"Uhm …" Potter only made and Snape shook his head.

"How, Mr. Potter, will you be able to initiate this spell during a sexual act if you are not even capable of casting it now in a casual situation?" Snape asked, his eyebrow raised.

But – well, still nothing came from Potter and Snape silently growled, reaching for a piece of parchment and writing the spell down, reaching the parchment towards Potter who took it with trembling fingers, swallowing dryly.

Snape lifted his eyebrow again. Surely the brat couldn't be _that_ shy. But watching him, well, he surely was, he noticed.

Ok, it still was better than the giggling from the girls and the idiotic grin from the boys he normally received. He sighed again.

"Memorize this spell, Potter. It is important." He said. "As important as is the fact that you actually have to initiate the spell not only onto yourself but onto your partner as well if you wish to keep the _both_ of you safe."

Again – this annoying nod.

"Any questions up to now?" He asked, somehow knowing that he would receive nothing more than a shaking of Potter's head. And he could have bet on it, he would have won as there wasn't more than that. Again he shook his head.

"As to your question, Mr. Potter, you already kissed a girl, Miss Chang. Did you ever kiss a boy?" He asked, gaining a shaking of Potter's head.

"So you have no experience in relationships with boys?" Snape growled at the repeated shaking of the boy's head.

"So, how, Mr. Potter, did you get the idea that you actually could be interested in other boys?" He inquired.

"Uhm … well … hmm …" Potter made and Snape had to suppress the urge to snap at him impatiently. How was it that Potter wasn't able to form just one coherent sentence during their conversation? He was about to hold a monolog. Well, at least Potter had given away any sounds at all, and that was at least more than he had given away during the past quarter of an hour.

"How am I supposed to answer your question and help you with your choice in the gender of your future partners if you do not partake in this conversation and give me the answers I need, Mr. Potter?" He finally asked, not sure if he should shake the boy out of his stupor or if he just should give up and leave Potter to his own.

The guilty look on Potter's face made him sigh in frustration but decide to continue. Well, this was more complicated than he originally had thought.

"Let me put it another way, Mr. Potter." He said. "I guess after Miss Chang crying during your kiss, you weren't that interested in girls anymore, might I be quite right about this?"

Potter still looked guiltily at the floor, but he nodded.

"So, correct me, if I am wrong. But I guess, after this, you began to rather show interest in other boys, am I correct?"

Again the boy nodded, still looking at the floor.

"Well, Mr. Potter." They now came to the more difficult part of the conversation – as if it had gone easy up to now - and Snape was not sure if he wanted to cover this one today. But on the other hand – well, he would have to give Potter something to consider about until they would continue this conversation at all. "Just to give you something to consider until our next meeting."

Potter's head shot up, something like worry and fear across his face and Snape had to suppress a low chuckle. Severus Snape didn't chuckle.

"You didn't think a sexual education would be covered during one hour, now, did you, Mr. Potter?" He drawled in his usual manner, trying to keep the sneer out of his face as he knew it wouldn't do any good right now. Surely one of them would go crazy before the sexual education of Potter was over, and he guessed most likely it would be him, Snape.

Potter sat there, swallowing dryly while he watched him, the fear deepening in his eyes and for a moment Snape wondered why. But then he brushed it aside and continued.

"You might choose something like a soft and sweet loving relationship which you could have with any woman you might find out there in the world, wizarding or muggle, that doesn't really make any difference." He said. "You would gain a daily routine with children and a family. It promises happiness and warmth. Coming home from work with a loving wife waiting for you, dinner at the ready and candles burning on the table. It is something most wizards crave for. A safe and calm haven. A place to call your home, where you can rest and live in quiet and peace. You surely will find love there. And you surely will have sex with your wife. And it surely will be acceptable sex – for one or another. But it will be common sex, basic sex, and simple sex. Nothing that will go under your skin."

Watching Potter he again had to suppress a low chuckle at the widening of Potter's eyes. Not only was he Severus Snape, a dark and tough man who didn't chuckle, but it wouldn't be fair to laugh at the boy now either. Well, maybe it would be Potter who would go crazy at first. It would, at least, save him this fate then.

"Or you might choose a fierce and a passionate loving relationship which most likely only a partner with the same gender as yours can give you." He continued. "In this case you might find your heart speeding up with anticipation and maybe even a slight hint of something akin to - let me name it 'fear' for now. You might find your chest clench painfully with nerves and in forecast. You might find love so intense you never would be able feeling while being loved by a partner that is not the same gender. Being loved by a person with the same gender promises a love that is deeper than just living alongside each other. It is love beyond what you can imagine, Mr. Potter."

Watching Potter Snape wondered why the boy was as shy as he actually seemed to be. That boy seemed to be a helpless case and he wondered if he would be as shy when it came to the actual - well, play in bed. Lifting his eyebrow he nodded to himself. Yes, Potter would. He was sure of this, and whoever would end up with the teen would have a hard time to keep him from falling into either a stupor or into a panic attack. Not a very pleasant thought to look forwards to and he was glad that it wouldn't be him.

"A partner with the same gender however, will be more passionate, more possessive, more caring, more protective and more dominate. Or submissive." He continued with his velvet voice. "Sex with someone your own gender will be everything else than basic or simple. Sex with someone your own gender will go under your skin and make you crave for more. It will bewitch your senses and it will trap you into a world of its own. The more if you find the _right_ partner to share such kind of a relationship with."

Potter finally looked at him, but it was a look that made Snape lifting his eyebrow in a questioning manner. His eyes were huge with something like fear, or startling. Something akin to shock.

"What … what kind of … well, relationship … do you actually mean?" Potter finally managed to stammer a few coherent words and Snape was nearly relieved. At least he hadn't driven the boy into insanity. Not now at least. But watching Potter he guessed he might quite manage doing so. "I thought … if you loved someone … well … then it automatically would be the right person."

"That depends on what kind of relationship you prefer, Mr. Potter." Snape answered. "You of course can have with a partner your same gender just – light sex. What I highly doubt. Wizarding couples with the same gender mostly prefer a rather passionate relationship. How passionate, that depends on the wizards themselves. Let me just say, if you prefer something like SM or BDSM, then no, you could not practice it with any other wizard just because you love him. You need the _right_ partner for this."

Potter swallowed thickly and at once his eyes were elsewhere but at him. The wall to his left seemed to be very interesting, as was the fire, the front of his desk and – the floor beneath his feet. With a frustrated sigh Snape ran his hand over his face.

"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Potter." He said, causing the teen to look at him momentarily. "If you had sex with another boy, would you take the upper hand? Or would you allow your partner to lead you?"

"Uhm …" Potter again made and Snape growled.

"An answer, if you please, Potter." He snapped in annoyance. "And a coherent one if you are able to."

Well, maybe he should not have asked him two questions that required different answers at once. Yet – he had done so on purpose. He wanted Potter to actually form a coherent sentence. He wanted him to actually voice this subject. And he surely would not reform his question now.

Of course he knew the answer already. He knew it by just watching him. Potter surely would be the submissive partner in _any_ relationship. Again he shook his head. That was not the son of James Potter! James Potter would have grinned like mad and he would have boosted about _how _he could have anyone he wanted. And _how _he would dominate his partner. James Potter had been a macho and nothing more.

"Well, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted.

"Uhm … well, the second one." Potter answered and Snape had to admit that he successfully had avoided voicing a simple sentence about sex. He closed his eyes.

"I thought so, Mr. Potter." He said. "Then, on the other hand, if you had sex with a girl, would you take the upper hand and lead her? Or would you allow her to - lead you?"

He had been tempted to ask, 'or would you allow her to dominate you?' But he had changed his mind midsentence. It would do him no good if he startled Potter even more and he watched the teenager close. Again he knew the answer immediately. Potter never would take a girl as a partner. Because, yes, he would allow her to dominate him. And this somehow did not seem right with him. The boy squirmed and desperately tried to find a way out of this.

It took him quite a few minutes until he was able to give a quiet "I … don't know" away.

"Yes, I guessed as much." Snape said. "What is the reason why you surely will end up with a partner your gender. And I even dare to guess it would be a partner a few years older than your age."

However, as it seemed, Potter really never had talked about this subject to anyone else and the moment he had dismissed the boy, with the words "tomorrow evening, eight o'clock, this office" he nearly had run out of the room, fleeing the situation. Or him.

Snape sighed in frustration while he again ran his hand over his face. Never before had he had a student sitting in this office and giving him – or her – the talk that was as uncomfortable with the situation as Potter was. Of course they all were uncomfortable with the situation. But Potter?

Damn, that boy could have anyone. He was a handsome young man with his unruly black hair and his green eyes. He was slender, well, ok, maybe he was a bit too thin, but a firmly watched diet could change this. But otherwise the boy had a desirable body. He was small for his age, and thus he would fit well into the arms of a dominant partner.

Yet – he had absolutely no self-assurance. He didn't know what he looked like, he didn't know how desirable he was, and he didn't know …

Wait!

How desirable Potter was? Where had this thought come from?

He blinked a few times, shocked at his own thoughts.

Well, ok, he had to admit that Potter definitely _was_ handsome. And that he _didn_'t act arrogant about it. That he didn't even _know _what he looked like. What made him just the more desirable …

Stop!

Potter surely was not desirable. Well, yes, he was. But _he_ didn't desire him. He didn't desire boys at all. He preferred men his age who knew exactly what they got themselves into by agreeing to have sex with him.

He was no one who cared about his sex partners. He took them. Well, he didn't rape them. They all knew that they could ask nothing more than a short but rough sexual act of him. And if they agreed, well, then it was just that. Short but rough. He didn't prepare them. And he didn't use lubricate either. And afterwards he left without a word.

Well, yes. He hurt himself too, forcing his way into them without preparation and without lubrication either. But he wanted it that way. It was nothing more than a short and painful release of his needs.

He didn't care where this short release took place either. It could be a side-street behind a pub as well as it could be a dark room in a flophouse. He didn't care. As long as it was short and painful.

And he always took them from behind, not wanting to see their faces. Not wanting to see their pleasure nor their pain. Not wanting to see anything. He always restrained them, holding their arms behind their backs with one hand and forcing them against the wall or onto the surface of a table with his other hand on their necks.

And then he left, went back to Hogwarts and into his quarters to drown a bottle of whiskey, feeling as dirty as he was.

Well, there had been other times. Long ago. There had been times when he had cared about the person he loved. But back then, it had not been sex. It had not been a short and painful release of his needs and nothing more. It had been love back then. And it had been really passionate love, even if the person had been a woman. He had loved her. And for her, for her he had learned everything about BDSM there was to learn. He had cared deeply for her.

But then, then she had died.

And then she just had been gone.

And he had been left behind.

And it had been his fault.

Never again had he allowed himself to have anything else, anything more than – just sex. Short and rough sex, and then leaving his partner, wordlessly, sometimes even before the other man had his trousers back in place. He mostly didn't even know their names. Yet – he didn't care either. It was just once a month, and it didn't bother to him.

Just once a month.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

When Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room, he was in quite a daze. He didn't even remember everything that Snape had told him. It had been something about fear. And something about anticipation. Something about passionate love.

It had been something about him who would end up in a relationship with another boy. And one that was older than him. Well, ok, this he already had known, that only an older partner would be acceptable to him. Did this mean that he actually was gay? But why had Snape been so sure about this? How did Snape know this if he didn't even know it by himself? And why had he asked him if he would allow his partner to lead him?

Well, at least Snape had not _asked_ him if he would choose someone who was older. Maybe Snape would come to the wrong conclusion.

Well, yes. He actually _would_ choose someone who was older than him. But surely not a professor. And surely not Snape of all people. Snape was a snarky and cold bastard that hated him. He was dark and cold. And he feared him.

He didn't fear him as he feared uncle Vernon. But he _did_ fear him. Somehow.

Alone those black eyes that pierced him with this cold and impassive stare.

And then this damn deep voice that was as dark and as cold as were his eyes.

That velvet voice, that could use words in a way that made him shiver whenever he slipped from one sentence into the next one without caring to acknowledge the full stop at the end of the sentence, as if it wasn't present, as if even grammatical rules had to bend to him, just to go on in a slow motion the next moment, emphasizing every single word while he leaned close and pierced him with this black eyes.

He blinked in confusion when he noticed that a strange feeling had settled in his stomach.

No, not his stomach. It was deeper. It was down where his member was - somehow. And his insides made something like a flip flop. Even his heart was racing and somehow he couldn't breath rightly.

That surely didn't mean … it surely didn't mean what he thought it meant. It couldn't.

He surely wasn't aroused by the thought at the Potions Professor. Surely not.

Snape definitely was not the kind of partner he would ever choose. Definitely not.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed his bath bag and went towards the showers. He would go to bed and he would sleep. Tomorrow he would feel better. And then he could sort out whatever he felt. He just was stupid, nothing more.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Well, somehow the same than this one … a continuation of 'the talk' … and Snape recognizing that he had some feelings for the boy he hated since six years …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you


	3. sex in general

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note****:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed his bath bag and went towards the showers. He would go to bed and he would sleep. Tomorrow he would feel better. And then he could sort out whatever he felt. He just was stupid, nothing more. _

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter three **

**Sex in general**

The next day came much too quickly for Harry, and he felt quite ill. He had gotten a complete idiot out of himself the evening before. How could he have been so stupid as to ask Snape about this in the first place? And why in Merlin's name had Snape agreed to this? It just wasn't quite like Snape to do such a thing!

He had gotten from pale to red-faced like a tomato and then back to pale – or the other way round, it wasn't really important which color his face had had in the first place.

He had stuttered and he had stammered, and he hadn't been able to utter a complete coherent sentence.

Thus – he really felt quite ill the entire day at the thought of a continuation of this all and it got worse by every hour that went by.

During breakfast he wasn't even able to cast just one glance at the head table, knowing that Snape sat there, knowing that the man would be sneering at him, or that he would get a loathing gaze and he was quite glad that he never ate anything during breakfast. He wouldn't have been able to stomach anything. He felt quite ill.

During his morning lessons he wasn't able to really concentrate onto his work and he accidentally had transfigured Professor McGonagall's robes into a curtain. Well, he had been lucky and he hadn't gotten himself into detention. But Professor McGonagall nevertheless had not been pleased with him.

Lunch he had skipped completely – well, ok, that was normal. He mostly spent his time in the library during lunch, searching for anything that would help him pass time. He just didn't want to sit in the great hall, knowing that Ron and Hermione were there, bickering, annoyed at each other and using him as an excuse for not having to talk to each other.

And during his afternoon lessons he wasn't able to concentrate at all, causing Hermione to look at him curiously every few minutes and causing Ron to make inquisitive comment after inquisitive comment. He just was glad that it was defence they had this afternoon. He surely would have messed up with a more difficult lesson – like potions for example.

Well – and from there on it only got worse by each hour that passed.

Soon it would be time. Soon it would be eight. Soon he would have to go down to the dungeons. Soon he would have to face Snape for … uargh …

Snape had said something about fear and he shuddered, not for the first time today.

He really had quite enough fear in his life. He didn't need the fear of a partner, or a relationship, or whatever added to what he had to deal with normally.

But he really wasn't interested in girls at all.

So, what to do? Could he really dare to ask Snape? To ask him if he had been serious? To ask him what kind of relationship he had meant?

Could he ask him what fear had to do with sex? And why anyone would want to feel fear during sex in the first place? What exactly Snape could have meant with that? And why Snape was so sure that a boy was the right choice for him? And why Snape was so sure that he needed someone who was a few years older than him?

Of course he knew that a boy his own age was not that what he needed, not what he wanted, that he would not be happy with a boy his age, that he was far ahead of his classmates. He would need someone who was older than him. But why thought _Snape _that someone his own age wouldn't fit? That he would end up with someone a few years older?

Shuffling his way along towards the dungeons he felt his insides squirm. He really didn't want to continue this conversation. On the other hand, he really wanted to know more. He really wanted to have answers to his questions that ran through his mind. Nevertheless he nearly trembled when he knocked at the door to Snape's office.

The immediate "enter" coming from the inside didn't really help him either. On the contrary. It made him just the more nervous and he felt his insides squirm even more. Snape really was there, present. For a moment he had hoped that the Potions Master wouldn't be there. Yet – it would have been the first time. When Snape placed an appointment, never mind if it was detention or a lesson, then he was present at the required time.

So - Harry entered the office with a feeling of dread and yet – anticipation.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Good evening, Mr. Potter." Snape greeted when Potter entered. Yet – the boy just inclined his head in what seemed to be meant as a greeting, and he seemed to be as nervous as he had been the evenings before. If not even more nervous he thought. "Sit." He said, noticing that Potter hadn't taken the seat that was empty across the table. Well, he had transfigured the chair that normally stood there into a comfortable armchair. As he had done with his own chair. He also had transfigured the desk into a coffee-table and all in all the strange look of his office might have startled Potter.

"I thought this might be a bit more comfortable for the direction our conversation might take tonight." He explained. "Did you think about what I explained yesterday, Mr. Potter?"

"Uhm …" The boy made, as eloquent as the night before and Snape already began to get annoyed.

"In words I actually might detect as human language, if you please." He drawled.

"Well, yes." Potter finally answered. "I have … thought about it, sir. And I guess … well I do not want to have … well, a relationship with another boy."

"Why might that be, if I may ask?" Snape inquired, quite confused. Potter had sounded sure about it the evening before. _He_ had been sure.

"Well, you mentioned … something … like … fear, sir." Potter answered. "But … I don't want to feel … fear. I mean, where is the point in … why should anyone want to feel fear?"

"You might have a point, Mr. Potter." Snape answered, grinning inwardly while he kept his cold mask outwardly. He had to admit he enjoyed it, seeing the teenager squirm. That exactly it was, what he had meant, and he knew that Potter would learn it soon. "Yet, you have to know that there is a difference between fear and fear, Mr. Potter."

"I am sorry, sir." Potter said and he really looked apologetic. "But I do not believe this. Sorry sir."

Snape nodded. Of course Potter didn't believe it. No one who never felt this kind of fear, of anticipation, of whatever you would call it – no one would ever be able to believe it.

"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Potter." He finally said, his dark eyes fixing the boy in front of him. "Yesterday evening, you fled this office. Did you really want to come back tonight?"

"No, not really." Potter answered after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Why not?" Snape asked, quite glad that this time Potter at least partook in the conversation.

"Don't know. Sir." Potter mumbled and Snape lifted his left eyebrow.

"Then think about it, Mr. Potter. What exactly could have been the reason that did you not want to come back tonight?" He asked.

There was no answer to his question and Snape again lifted his eyebrow. Of course he knew the answer. But he wanted Potter to give it to him. He wanted Potter to speak it out aloud. If he was right, then Potter would have to get used to speaking about such.

"An answer if you please, Potter." He said and his voice left no space for sidestepping this. He made clear that he demanded an answer.

"Because … I … feared this conversation." Potter mumbled after a few more moments.

"I knew you feared this conversation." Snape nodded. "Yet, I also knew that you would come back. What you quite did. Why?"

Again there was a pause during which Potter's gaze wandered towards the ground.

"An answer, if you please, Mr. Potter. And you might look at me during a conversation too. If you do wish to speak towards the floor, then you might do this in your common room, but not in my presence."

Potter really looked up at him – for nearly three seconds before he flushed and his gaze went back towards the floor.

"Because I wanted to finish this conversation." He finally answered. "Because I wanted to know more."

"So, you wanted to know more and thus you came back. Even if you feared a continuation of this conversation. What kind of fear was it? Was it a really unpleasant fear? Or was it acceptable?"

"I don't know, sir." Potter mumbled.

"Then think about it, Mr. Potter." Snape said, his voice soft and gentle and Harry looked up at him, nearly startled. Snape sounding gentle, that surely meant danger. The man just wasn't _able_ to speak gently.

"I really don't know, sir. I'm not really sure about it. But I guess, it was not really too unpleasant."

"I guessed as much." Snape answered, again with this soft and gentle voice. "Do you see what exactly I mean, Mr. Potter?"

"I guess." Potter mumbled – again towards the floor.

"You might address _me_, Mr. Potter, instead of the _floor_." Snape repeated in a growl and he waited until Potter looked back at him before he continued. "This anticipation, this kind of _'fear'_ you felt, this it is what I meant. No one forced you to. It had been your own free will, your own choice, your own decision. You have this kind of _'fear'_ in your own hands."

"But why?" Potter asked. "Why this kind of _'fear'_? I don't understand what this kind of _'fear'_ has to do with a relationship. Or – well – you know."

"I know what, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Uhm … well …" Potter made, and Snape soon noticed that it had been a mistake trying to force the teen using the word 'sex' - it just was fruitless and he got nothing more out of Potter. Just as the night before and he sighed.

"You shouldn't throw the idea of a relationship with the same gender away, just because you fear – _feeling_." Snape explained, fixing the teenager with a stern gaze of his dark eyes. "And nothing more it is, Mr. Potter. You might have feelings, as every human being has. But you actually have to allow yourself to feel them. And you, no one else but you alone, have them in your own hand. You can live a life that is easy and calm, feeling slight fear here and feeling slight joy every now and then. But on the other hand you can live a life that is passionate. And then those feelings will not only be slightly present. Then you will feel them with such a power, they will wash over you until you are about to drown in them. But for those occasions you have your partner who cares for you and who will keep you at the surface. That it is, what I mentioned yesterday, Mr. Potter. Such kind of a relationship you cannot have with _any_ person. You need to find the _right_ one. Let me try to explain some differences to you."

He drew his wand and with a flick of it he had a tray with tea placed on the small table between them which he had ordered earlier from the kitchens. Pouring tea into both cups and reaching one towards Potter. He then leaned back, his cup in his hands as if to warm them. Potter did the same with his cup, he noticed.

"You may know that there are different ways to practice sex." Snape finally said, noticing the blush on Potter's face deepening. "Some might tend to light sex, 'vanilla sex' as the muggles call it. What means nothing more than a bit contact of skin here and there, kissing, maybe even nibbling at an ear or the partner's neck - and then the actual sexual act. It is nothing more than actually lovemaking. This definitely can fill an entire night. And it definitely can be very sensual. But it isn't the right thing for everyone. It is – just light. There is no fun in it, no change of settings, no real excitement, and no anticipation, no passion. There is nothing than – just sex."

Wouldn't he be Severus Snape who never laughed, then he would have laughed at Potter just now. The boy would have tried to hide somewhere underneath the floor, if he just would have been able to and he shook his head.

"Well, do you want further explanation on this special subject?" He asked.

Potter shook his head after a second or two, casting a short glance at him and he lifted his eyebrow. He had thought as much.

"So, what exactly do you want to know? You said you wanted to know more. What exactly do you want me to explain, Mr. Potter?"

There was a long pause in which the boy didn't answer, actually, one minute ran into the next one and then into a third. But Snape didn't step back to give the boy a chance of escaping. He waited. Even if he was no patient man in general, he sometimes could be very patient. And this was one of those sometimes. He could be a very, very patient man when it came to sex, Lily even had cursed him sometimes for this and for a moment his eyes softened at the thought of Lily.

"About … about what you mentioned … yesterday." Potter finally said and Snape had to suppress an amused grin. It was their third conversation now and still the boy was uncomfortable with the situation to no end.

"Actually I did mention a lot of things yesterday, Mr. Potter. What exactly do you refer to?" Snape asked, his voice still firm, not allowing a sidestep, but gentle with the afterglow of thoughts about the only woman he ever had loved.

Again there was no answer for at least two or three minutes and Snape again waited patiently. He snorted inwardly. He! Being patient with Potter! That was quite a first one.

"Well … about … well, you said … I surely would end up … well, with … you know …" Potter finally mumbled, not finishing his sentence, but Snape did not take the hint. Of course he knew what Potter meant, but he just lifted his eyebrow at him, questioningly, enjoying the uncomfortable squirming the teenager displayed.

"I know what?" He asked when it was clear that Potter wouldn't go on with his question.

"Well, you said … I would end up … with someone the same … gender." Potter finally managed to finish his sentence. "And someone older than me. Why?"

"As you are not the type to dominate your partner, even if this partner would be a girl, and as you – I take it from the hesitation you displayed yesterday – would not be comfortable being dominated by a girl either, there is only one possibility left. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Potter?"

"I guess." Potter murmured, just before he ran his hand over his face. "Just another thing that makes me weak." He added in a whisper that was not meant for Snape to hear. He did nevertheless, and he frowned.

"Being the submissive part in a BDSM relationship doesn't make you weak, Mr. Potter." He said and he would have been amused by the startled look Potter gave him, would the subject not have been a serious one. "And being the dominant part in this relationship on the other hand doesn't make your partner strong either. Nor does it place your partner above you. Both partners, never mind which role they overtake during their interactions, are equals. Neither is above the other. Answer me a question, Mr. Potter. Would you think an auror to be weak?"

"Well, there are quite a few idiots amongst them." Potter answered and this time Snape really had to suppress a laugh. The boy had quite a point.

"Indeed." He answered. "You are quite right. Nevertheless, even the idiots amongst them surely are not weak. Otherwise they would not have managed to absolve the auror program. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't know, sir. I do not know the auror program, but, I guess you might be right."

"I _do_ know the program. And thus I know that they cannot be weak if they are capable of absolving it. Nevertheless I know of at least one auror who actually is overtaking the submissive part in a BDSM relationship. What is displayed by you and your partner during sexual interactions, has nothing to do with your all day life. Even a cretin like Wormtail would be able to be a dominant part in such if he had the wit to learn it and if anyone would have him."

For a moment Potter actually tried to smile. Yet, it rather came out as a grimace and again Snape frowned.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked. But no answer came beside of the fact that again Potter averted his eyes and it downed on him. "You are Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. You surely could have everyone."

This time Potter really laughed. But it was an angry laugh. "Of course. Every one wants to have the famous Harry Potter. Even Hermione and Ron. They wouldn't be befriending with me if I were just Harry. But that is not what I want. But I cannot have what I want, because no one would want just Harry." He said in an angry voice and got to his feet, ready to storm out of the office.

"Sit!" Snape commanded, his voice sharp. Something had just made 'click' in his head, he just couldn't put a name to it.

The boy cast an angry gaze at him before he sighed, defeated, and then sat back into the armchair.

"Sorry." He mumbled and Snape sighed. For a moment he had seen something in the boy that was the real Potter. Not James Potter, surely not. But Harry Potter. Or – Harry. For a moment he had voiced what exactly he wanted. And for a moment he had gotten angry. Well, before he had gone back to this masked Harry Potter who didn't allow himself to feel. Or to display his feelings.

Yes, something had been quite familiar. He knew it. He just couldn't name it.

"If you want to be just Harry, and not the famous Harry Potter, then maybe you should say so to your friends." He said. That it was. Part of it at least.

So, Potter didn't want the fame. Yet – he should have known it. He didn't act like his father had. And his father hadn't been famous. This boy was a rather calm and silent young man. He got into quite a lot of trouble, yes, but somehow, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that mostly trouble found Potter and not the other way round.

"As if they would listen to this. And besides, it wouldn't change anything anyway." Potter said.

"No, it wouldn't change anything. You still would be the same person. You could stand in front of the great hall tomorrow evening during dinner and tell the entire student body that you are not the famous Harry Potter but just Harry and it wouldn't change anything. You are who you are. You would not be able to change what they see in you. But you can change what others display towards you if you tell them that you do not like it, if you tell them what you want."

"They already know. Hermione and Ron at least. And nevertheless they act as if they were the best friends of the greatest hero on earth. They do not care about me, just about the _Boy Who Lived_." Potter answered with a sneer Snape would have been proud of if they would get along better than they actually did.

"I see." The Potions Master nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, then there is no other way than to either confront them, or to ignore it."

The boy didn't give him an answer to this and he watched him for a while. The angry expression on his face had changed into a defeated one and he wondered why. Any other teenager would have thrown a fit, would have ranted at the best. But Potter didn't do so and he wondered why.

The boy capitulated quite too quickly.

"What do you fear would happen if you confronted Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Well, nothing would happen, sir." The boy answered after a few moments in which he actually seemed to think about the situation. "They would apologize, I would accept it, and then they would go back to their normal behaviour."

"I see." Snape said, a thoughtful look on his face. So, Granger and Weasley were just abusing the friendship with Potter. They were his friends, but just because he was famous. Even if he hated this little fact. And there was nothing Potter actually could do against it. Well, in some way the boy might have been quite right, last year. It just wasn't fair. Yet, he knew that life never was fair. And he guessed that Potter knew this by himself.

"Maybe you could show them your disappointment with actions, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

"With actions?" The boy looked at him thoughtfully, but then he shook his head the moment he understood what Snape meant. "No, sir." He then answered. "No. I don't want to loose them. They are the only friends I have. Every other one thinks I'm a freak, because I can speak to snakes. Some of them even still think I would be the hair of Slytherin. And some think I killed Cederic. And others think it was my fault that Voldie is back."

For a few moments Snape coughed at the sip of tea he had taken and he tried to get back his composure. Then he cast a shocked look towards Potter.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked.

"Well … uhm …" Potter made, blinking in confusion. "Well, I said, that I would not want to loose …"

"No, Mr. Potter." Snape lifted his eyebrow at the teenager. "I mean the part about the Dark Lord. What exactly did you call him?"

"Well … uhm … Voldie?" Potter answered, but it sounded more like a question.

"You better do not call him this if you ever should have the misfortune of standing in front of him, Mr. Potter." Snape said and his voice was calm again with a hint of seriousness and he pierced Potter with his dark eyes. "He would not be pleased."

"Well, I guess I _will_ have the misfortune of standing in front of him one day, as it seems." Potter growled darkly. "And I guess he surely will not be pleased then, never mind what I do or call him then, sir."

"You might be quite right, Mr. Potter." Snape shook his head, not knowing if he should be amused or worried. "Yet, when this will happen, then you better keep him as pleased as possible and as long as you can in order to play for time. The more assured he feels, the more likely he will make a mistake. He is just too confident in himself. The more so if he is pleased. That is his weak spot and you should use this weakness of him to your opportunity."

For a moment he wondered how they had come from talking about sex to talking about the bastard that was the Dark Lord. But then another thought hit him. He actually had a civil conversation with Potter. And what was even more remarkable, he enjoyed this conversation. He actually enjoyed a conversation with Harry Bloody Potter. That was …

How had he managed this?

"May I ask a question, sir?" Harry asked, his tone of voice quite carefully and even his eyes were watching him warily. Snape narrowed his eyes at the teen.

"You already did ask one. But yes, you may ask your question." He said, slightly impressed that Potter was able to difference between the words 'can' that three quarter of the student body used and 'may' that he taught his Slytherins to use when asking a question in which this word actually was required.

"Do you know how we managed to … well … have a civil conversation?" The boy asked, still watching him warily and for a moment Snape even could catch something like fear in those green eyes. He sighed.

"Actually, no, Mr. Potter. I do not have an explanation for this impressive occurrence." He answered. "However, I guess there was something else on your mind which you wanted to know earlier, before we - somehow - changed the subject and - managed to have a civil conversation."

"Uhm … well … yes …" Potter made and Snape nearly sighed. So, they were back to stammering. He had hoped that the boy would have overcome his shyness after a conversation in which he partook. Apparently he had not.

"You did not want to know any more about common sexual practices." He helped out. "So I guess you wanted to know more about …?"

"Uhm … well … about … well … this BDSM thing … I guess." Potter mumbled and for a moment the Potions Master was tempted to ask him to repeat his answer clearly. Yet, the teen had answered his question and he didn't want to push too much - so he let it slip.

"I guessed as much." He said, pausing a moment to consider how to proceed. "However, we would not be able to cover this subject tonight anyway, but I wanted to come back to our original conversation to give you a few things to think about until tomorrow evening." This time Potter didn't look so startled and horrified at the thought that he actually had to come back to continue this conversation as he had been yesterday evening.

"I already told you that there were those who preferred common sexual practices. And that they definitely might be pleasant as well, in their own way. But those common sexual practices are not the right thing for everyone. Some might want a bit more than just – sex. And those people are practicing SM, or BDSM."

Well, they really seemed to be back to where they had been earlier as there was no answer from Potter besides of a nod. Yet – from the nearly startled look he gave him, he didn't really know much about it. Maybe just a few things he had heard and he wondered about how much Potter had heard, how much he knew and how much of what he had heard actually was true.

"You might be startled at this now. And you might be right in some way, Mr. Potter." He continued. "Be warned. With the wrong person it can be something very dangerous and surely will end disastrous, mind this words and never forget them. It is important if you want to consider this kind of a relationship. But with the right person on the other hand it is something very special and something very intimate. Even if it is not easy to find someone trustworthy with whom you actually could play really safely."

He looked at Potter with his dark eyes, fixing him with his piercing gaze until he had a nod from the boy. He nodded himself before he continued. "Well, if you try such, then remember. There are two lines. The first line is about trust, honesty and communication. And the second line is about sane, safe and consensual. Those lines are the poles of the construction that is called BDSM. I want you to think about this until tomorrow evening. Eight o'clock, this office."

Potter nodded before he got to his feet and he even managed a murmured "Good night, Professor". Snape was quite impressed at that fact and he inclined his head towards the teen.

"Good night, Mr. Potter." He answered, watching the boy leaving his office and he frowned. Not for the first time this evening. He wondered if – yet again – the teenager would be afraid of a continuation of this conversation.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, Potter really was shy beyond limits when it came to the subject of sexuality and his stuttering and murmuring was unnerving. But otherwise … it still was better than the giggling the girls he sometimes had sitting in his office for giving them 'the talk' gave away, and it still was better than the stupid grin the boys displayed. Even if 'the talk' he normally gave his students never went into this direction. And – he had quite learned a few new sides on the boy.

Potter did not only hate the fact that he was famous, for example. In the contrary to his father who would have loved it. But he also had quite a sense of humour. Calling the bastard Voldie. Again Snape shook his head and now that he was alone in his office he chuckled at the nickname Potter had given the madman. He better never allowed himself a slip of his tongue when he was in the bastard's presence. Again he chuckled. Maybe it would be worth it, just to see his face then.

But well, no. He really wasn't suicidal.

Well, Potter at least had a nerve, he had to admit this.

But he didn't like the unsure behaviour the boy displayed. And he could tell that Harry was not just unsure concerning sex, nor concerning himself, that he was not only unaware of his body and his appearance.

No, the boy did fear something. He just didn't know what it was.

Well, he feared to loose his friends. And that was quite understandable. But his friends just abused this friendship. And thus they were not worth this friendship. He never would tell him this little fact. He had to find it out by himself. But somehow he didn't like the fact that they hurt the boy.

And yes, the boy seemed to fear – Voldie. But that was understandable as well. He, Snape, was a grown man and he feared the bastard, knowing what the Dark Lord was capable of, and knowing that he never would hesitate to kill him if he displeased him somehow. Of course Harry feared this madman. He would be stupid if he wouldn't.

And Harry feared he wouldn't get a partner, at least that had been the impression he had gotten earlier during the conversation. But then – a lot of teenagers had the same fear. What actually was the reason they changed their partners so often. They took the next best one they thought they were in love with, just to be with someone, then they learned that this one wasn't the right one and they parted. And he – Snape – as a head of house, he had to deal with the lovesick students afterwards.

Yet – there was something else the boy feared and he didn't know what it was.

Shaking his head and closing his eyes he wondered since when he cared about Harry. And since when Potter had become Harry in the first place. Yet – somehow he couldn't bring himself to mind this.

Somehow he had become to know a different Potter. The boy hadn't been disrespectful during their conversations the past evenings either. Well, maybe because he had made an effort to be civil. He hadn't called him Potter, but Mr. Potter. Mostly at least. And he hadn't tried to throw humiliating comments at him either.

Maybe Harry had just reacted to his actions. What had led to the fact that they had managed to have a – civil conversation. And one that he had quite enjoyed.

And well, if he liked to admit it or not, the boy _did _look good. And he didn't even know it. And, yes, if he liked to admit it or not, he was just the more desirable in his inability of self-awareness.

Sighing heavily again he wondered where this might lead to, where this might end. Well, he better did not think about this right now. But nevertheless he couldn't help but feeling some kind of satisfaction over the fact that they had gotten along well. And nevertheless he couldn't help but looking forwards to the next evening, when the teen would be back.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Hey, where have you been mate?" Ron asked as soon as Harry entered the Gryffindor common room, jumping up from the sofa where he had been sitting beside a grumpy looking Hermione and Harry sighed. They had fought again. And again Ron took him as an excuse to get away from his upset girlfriend.

"I was outside a bit." He said. "And I wanted to be on my own." He added when Ron opened his mouth to ask him why he had not invited him.

"You're out quite often, Harry." Hermione meant, frowning at him. "Are you trying to avoid us?"

"Let me just say, your constant bickering is getting on my nerves … why can't you two just get along? You two have been friends at some point, you know?"

And with those words he stormed out of the common room, up the stairs to his dormitory and threw himself onto his bed.

What was wrong with him?

Whenever he saw Ron and Hermione quarrelling, he got agitated.

And whenever he saw them, he had the feeling that he should leave them alone and go.

And whenever he was alone then - then his thoughts wandered to Snape.

And whenever he thought of Snape, then he just wanted to go down into the dungeons and talk to him further.

And whenever he wanted to go down into the dungeons, then he felt this kind of – well …

He began to understand what exactly Snape had meant.

He feared going down there and back to Snape. And he _knew_ that it was some kind of fear. But at the same time he wanted to go to the Potions Master nevertheless. And it really was not that unpleasant. On the contrary. Just now, in this moment, it was – nearly pleasant.

So – yes – to come back to his original question – what the hell was wrong with him?

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Going deeper into the subject … and closing the eyes …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you _… _


	4. the birds and the bees

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note****:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_He feared going down there and back to Snape. And he knew that it was some kind of fear. But at the same time he wanted to go to the Potions Master nevertheless. And it really was not that unpleasant. __On the contrary. Just now, in this moment, it was – nearly pleasant._

_So – yes – to come back to his original question – what the hell was wrong with him?_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter four **

**The birds and the bees**

This evening Snape was sitting in the armchair he had transfigured from the chair behind his desk, waiting for Potter and he felt quite comfortable with the oncoming situation. It still might be a bit strange how everything had changed last evening, but he couldn't bring himself to mind.

Somehow they had not only managed to have a civil conversation. He even had enjoyed it. But there was more.

Well, he already had known that Harry – still he wondered when exactly Potter had become Harry during the evening before – had not been the spoiled prince he always had thought him to be. He had known it since the occlumency lessons last year. The memories he had seen back then had showed him that the boy didn't have such a pleasant home life. It was a home life filled with cruel taunting, with hatred and that missed every welcoming feelings. But he never had allowed himself to admit it, to even acknowledge it. It had been much easier to keep hold on the old picture of a spoiled brat.

Well, and yes, he somehow had known that Harry indeed was not an arrogant snot, that he rather was a kind and caring boy that showed respect and manners towards the teachers. And he did not only know this because Albus and Minerva always or some of the other teachers at Hogwarts had told him so. Any other boy, whom he would have handled like he had Harry, would have gone against him long ago.

Of course Harry surely had complained about him in the corridors or in the great hall, and presumably as well in his common room. But honestly, not only did every student complain about him, Harry also had every right doing so. He had humiliated him since the first potions class he'd had the boy in. But Harry never had offended him openly, not even to defend himself.

And there was the fact that the boy really had apologized to him after the incident with his pensive last year. The boy had written him a long letter a few weeks afterwards and he had sent him this letter together with a vial filled with some of his memories and an apology for even what his father had done.

Snape sighed. Needless to say he never had watched those memories. But he hadn't given them back to the teen yet either. Nor had he accepted the apology yet. Maybe it was time to do so now. The boy really had been sorry about it, and he really had tried to make it up to him. And the boy really was not his father. He was Harry Potter, not James Potter.

But still there was something else. Something that was known to him, something he recognized as strangely disturbing, but still he couldn't place a name to it. But something was quite amiss and he had the strange feeling that it was important.

Well, and not to mention that there was the little fact, that Harry indeed _was_ desirable. The black hair that was as unruly as his father's had been, yet – Harry didn't mess it up even more like James always had done. He just ran his hand through it if he was thinking or if he was frustrated. And the green eyes that could went so large, those green eyes, just like Lily's eyes had been. Yet – Harry's green eyes held not the same joy and smile than Lily's had held. They were darker, filled with unsureness and something akin to fear, something akin to pain.

For a moment he felt the painful twist in his chest he always felt when he thought about Lily.

Lily Evans. Harry's mother.

Yes, Lily had been the woman he once had loved, the only woman he ever had loved. The only _person_ he ever had loved.

Had his view of Harry changed, because of Lily? Because he was Lily's son? Because he had Lily's eyes?

For a moment he considered this possibility. But then, no. Would that have been the case, well, then he never would have hated Harry in the first place.

The soft knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts and he knew immediately that it was Harry standing outside. He recognized the soft and careful knock as Harry's, no one else knocked so softly.

"Come in." He called, getting to his feet to pour the tea into the cups that already stood on the coffee table he had transfigured out of the desk just as he had dome yesterday and then he watched Harry entering his office and closing the door behind him as softly as he had knocked. The boy really was silent, not one of the boosting Bactrian camels he was used to.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter." He said.

The boy sat down into the armchair he had occupied last night and he again sat there on the edge of the furniture, unsure if he had placed himself correctly Snape thought and he lifted his eyebrow.

"You are allowed to sit into this armchair a bit more comfortable, Mr. Potter." He said, smirking at the youth. "You do not have to linger on the edge of it."

"Uhm …" The teen made and he averted his eyes. "I _am_ comfortable, sir." He then answered and Snape's eyebrow rose even higher.

"Well then, Mr. Potter." He said, suppressing a shake of his head. Why was it that Potter always needed at least half an hour to get comfortable in his presence?

Well, ok, maybe it was his own fault. He hadn't handled him very nice for the past five years, since the boy had arrived at Hogwarts.

"Do you have any questions about what we have discussed yesterday evening, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked and he was prepared to gain a shaking of the teen's head and to have a monologue once again. He really wondered why he did this. If he wanted to hold a soliloquy, then he surely didn't need Potter sitting opposite him, witnessing his insanity.

"Yes, sir. I have." Harry answered and Snape nearly chocked on the tea he had taken a sip from, lifting his eyebrow at him to hide the shock he felt. "What exactly is … well … uhm … you know …"

"I know what, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. "You might address that which is occupying this mind of yours while there actually _is_ something in it."

The teenager blushed and cast a quick glance at him before he looked aside to watch the dancing flames of the fire and for a moment Snape wondered what this look meant. There was no anger in those green eyes, rather something like amusement. A few days earlier the boy would have gotten angry, or he would have gotten depressed at such a comment. And now he was – amused?

"Well …" Potter sighed heavily. "I mean … well … BDSM? What exactly is it?"

"Ah." Snape made, barely able to suppress a smirk. "Do you know anything about it, or do we have to cover it entirely?"

"I don't know." The teen murmured, his flush deepening. "I heard the term, but I don't know what it is."

"Well, that might take a time then." Snape sighed and he wondered where to begin.

"I'm sorry." The boy murmured, looking really guilty now and Snape lifted his eyebrow. Did Potter really apologize for not knowing what BDSM meant?

"Whatever for, Mr. Potter?" He asked curiously.

"Because it might take time. Time you could use otherwise, sir." The teen nearly whispered and now Snape really was surprised. This boy in front of him really was not the boy he always had seen. Not only was he a kind and silent child, contrary to what his father had been, he also was not a boosting idiot but just unsure in every means of life as it seemed, especially of himself.

"Don't be, Mr. Potter." Snape growled at the boy and he lifted his eyebrow as the brat nearly flinched. "I would not sit here and waste my time – as you so eloquently suggested it - on a hormonal teenager such as yourself if I would not want to do this."

He leaned back, watching Potter who pressed his fingers around the cup in his hands in order to warm them, and for a moment he thought that he would have to warm his quarters if they continued with this into the fall. The teen was just too thin and he soon would freeze down here when it got a bit colder.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts he waved his wand and a plate with sandwiches appeared from the kitchens below. "Take a sandwich, Mr. Potter." He growled again. "I didn't see you eating much today."

In fact he hadn't seen Potter eating anything else than a slice of bare toast during dinner.

At breakfast he'd had nothing else than his usual cup of tea, lunch he had skipped at all and during dinner he had eaten nothing more than – the slice of toast. As he had done the day before, he remembered. And no, the boy hadn't even eaten this slice of toast. He had nibbled at it. _Nibbled!_

"Thank you, sir." Harry murmured, glad that he'd began to eat during dinner at least. He would be able to stomach a sandwich. He hoped so at least.

"Well, as to begin with an answer to your question. the acronym BDSM, is derived from the terms bondage and discipline, BD, dominance and submission, DS and sadism and masochism, SM, and is a form of consensual role-play between two or more individuals who use their experiences of imagination, fantasy, pain, fear, and power to create sexual pleasure, tension and – finally release." Snape said in a voice as if he would explain how to create a correct potion. Well, he had given some of his students 'the talk', but it surely was the first time he had a conversation with one of them about BDSM and he had to admit that he felt quite out of place somehow.

Potter looked up at him, the sandwich forgotten on his plate and he blinked in near shock.

"I'm sorry, sir." He said in his low voice, blinking a few times more before he averted his eyes again. "But … still I do not see why fear would be a part of … well … having … uhm … sex."

For a moment Snape said nothing and he just watched the teenager in front of him. Could he dare? Wouldn't he overstep his boundaries?

"Do you trust me, Mr. Potter?" Snape finally asked, coming to a decision and leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, I do." Harry answered, blinking in confusion.

For a few moments Snape gave no explanation to his question, was just sitting there, watching him with a thoughtful look in his dark eyes. But then he got up and walked towards Harry, his eyes still trained on the teenager and he stopped close beside him, looking down at him, noticing the stiffening of the brat's muscles. He still said nothing, he didn't move, he just stood there, watching him curiously.

Harry looked up at the Potions Master and his insides squirmed. What did Snape want from him? He surely had a reason to get up and to stand beside him, yet – he didn't move. He just watched him with this strange look on his face. What did the man want?

"Sir?" He asked unsurely and even _he_ could hear the fear in his own voice.

Snape watched Potter for a few more seconds, narrowing his eyes, wondering why the teen stiffened, trying to judge what kind of fear the boy momentarily felt – and why.

"Close your eyes, Mr. Potter!" He then said, his voice barely more than a whisper but it definitely was a command.

The teenager still watched him irritated, the fear in his eyes deepening and his hands curled into fists.

"Close – your – eyes, Mr. Potter!" Snape repeated, still in a low voice but with a bit more force, fixing Harry with a demanding gaze and this time the teen slowly obeyed and closed his eyes, unsureness and fear clearly written over his face and the stiffening of his body increased.

Snape did nothing for a few more moments besides of watching him close, judging his own next step and at the same time building up the tension in the teenager.

But then he slowly extended his hand and lightly ran his fingers over the boy's exposed neck, noticing the startled flinch Potter gave away before running his fingers towards the other side of the teenager's neck. He stopped there, keeping the skin contact and bent downwards.

"Keep your eyes closed, Mr. Potter. But do stop me if you wish me to stop." He whispered into the boy's ear.

He again paused a few seconds before he ran his fingers lightly towards the front and touching the teen's chin, his cheeks and then running his fingers towards the small ears and from there downwards back to the boy's neck.

Harry's breathing had become uneven and Snape could tell that his heart beat quicker now, he noticed the face that was a mask of fear and concentration and he noticed the small hands that still were curled into fists. The boy slightly trembled.

"Do you fear this?" Snape whispered into his ear, causing strands of his hair to move and again the boy flinched but he gave no answer and Snape ran his fingers back to the front of the boy, towards his throat.

"Do you want me to stop?" Snape whispered but again Harry gave no answer.

Opening the first button of the teen's shirt Snape ran his fingers over the collarbone, noticing how thin the boy really was and he frowned before he finally pulled his hand back and retreated a step.

It took a few seconds for Harry to realize that the touch had ended and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times and gazing through the room, startling when his eyes fell onto the Potions Master that still stood beside him, watching him close.

Waiting a few more moments until he could be sure the teenager wouldn't start to panic Snape still watched the boy close, until his eyes fell onto him and he could see recognition in them before he shortly inclined his head towards Potter and then went back to his armchair, sitting down.

"What did you feel, Mr. Potter?" He then asked.

Harry swallowed dryly and he only could shake his head, not able yet to voice what thoughts stumbled through his head, not able to voice what feelings stumbled through him.

Lifting his eyebrow Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial with a calming draught, knowing that he wouldn't get any answers out of the boy now and he refilled the teen's tea cup and poured half of the potion into the tea. He didn't want the brat too calm, didn't want to suppress his emotions or his reactions. He just wanted the brat calm enough so he would be able to continue the conversation.

"Drink this, Mr. Potter." He said, shoving the cup in front of the teenager, watching him unclenching his fists and reaching trembling fingers towards the warm porcelain. He waited a few more minutes, allowing his mind to work in the silence while he watched Potter in front of him, drinking his tea, and when he thought he could be sure that the boy was responsive again he continued the conversation.

"Feeling better, Mr. Potter?" He asked, gaining a nod from the brat. "Good. Now, tell me, what did you feel?"

"I don't know, sir." The teenager answered, his voice low and unsure.

"Was it fear what you felt?"

There were a few moments of pause and Potter lowered his gaze towards the ground before the teen whispered a "yes" and Snape frowned again at him.

"And you are ashamed of it." He stated, gaining no answer this time and he shook his head. "There is no reason to be, Mr. Potter." He said, leaning back in his armchair. "Everyone with some sense in his mind would fear this situation. I told you to close your eyes and you weren't able to see what I would do. And every one with a common sense in his brain would feel fear at being touched thus by his last favourite professor. So, there is no reason to be ashamed of your fear."

He watched the boy nod before he continued and asked his next question. "What kind of fear was it you felt, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

Again there was a pause for a few moments before the boy answered. "I don't know, sir."

Watching Potter for a while Snape recognized that the teenager really didn't know what exactly he had felt and he suppressed a sigh. It was like he had thought yesterday. The boy never had allowed himself to feel and thus he now didn't know what he felt now.

Harry might feel things like anger, he might feel things like fun, maybe even things like joy – yet, he doubted it somehow. There was no joy in the brat's eyes. And he might feel fear and pain. But neither was he able to define what exactly he felt, nor did he allow himself to recognize it as what it was.

Well, he guessed he did recognize it. He just didn't allow himself to acknowledge it.

"Let me put it another way, Mr. Potter." He said. "Was this kind of fear unpleasant?"

Harry only shook his head and Snape waited a few moments more.

"Was this kind of fear you felt pleasant then?" He asked.

"I don't know, sir." Harry whispered and the Potions Master immediately knew that he didn't allow himself to acknowledge the fear he had felt to actually be pleasant, that he wasn't sure if it was right or wrong to feel at all and he had to suppress a further sigh. How would he be able to find out what exactly Potter had felt if he wasn't able to describe it?

"Well, Mr. Potter. Let me ask you another question. Would you allow me to do this again?" He asked, leaning back in his armchair.

"I don't know, sir." The teen murmured, averting his eyes and Snape nodded. Potter would.

"I guess you do know. And I guess you would allow me to repeat this. And thus, I guess the fear you felt had been – somehow at least – pleasant. Do you now begin to understand what exactly I mean when I say that fear is not always unpleasant?"

"Yes, sir, I guess I do." Harry answered.

Snape nodded. "It was your own choice. You could have opened your eyes at every point you wanted. And you could have stopped me at every point you wanted. You had this decision in your own hands. It was your choice and yours alone. Giving away some of your power to a caring partner never means that you give away your control over the situation. You always can stop it and you always have a choice."

"If anyone really would care." Harry murmured, his voice only a sad whisper.

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked, not sure if he had heard rightly.

"Nothing, sir." The teenager answered, looking at the Potions Master startled. He hadn't meant to hear him saying anything. He hadn't meant to say anything at all.

"Do you wish to stop the discussion here for today?" The Potions Master asked, hoping that the boy wouldn't want to stop it now. He didn't know why he wanted to continue. It was Potter after all. The son of his childhood enemy. The one student that annoyed him the most, he loathed the most.

But then – no, he did not really loath the boy. Not anymore, and probably he never had really loathed him in the past either. Not really.

Watching him close he again tried to find an answer to his earlier question, to why and when this had changed, but again he didn't find one. He just couldn't hate the boy anymore. Not with the knowledge that he wasn't the arrogant and spoiled brat that James Potter had been. Not with the knowledge that Harry Potter was just a boy that in reality was polite and respectful. And not with the acceptance of the boy's apology.

"No, sir." Potter shook his head after he took a deep breath and Snape nearly sighed a sigh of relief. "You … you mentioned … you mentioned … pain … as well, sir." The teen then murmured, still not looking at him. "But … even if I … well, why would anyone want to feel that? By free will?" Potter looked up at him for the first time since he had touched the boy and Snape lowered his head to one side in a questioning manner when he noticed that there was more the boy wanted to say. "I mean, that is different. Pain is pain. And pain always is – just pain and nothing more."

"That is not entirely correct. As there is a difference between fear and fear, as you already have learned, Mr. Potter, there also is a difference between pain and pain." Snape explained and he was startled by how gentle and caring his own voice sounded. "Let me give you an example. If someone bites your neck during an argument it might be painful, and this kind of pain is an unpleasant pain as it is caused during an all-day situation without you being stimulated. The same pain on the other hand, a bite on your neck, inflicted from your partner during sexual activities where endorphins are released might be a quite pleasant one."

The teen's face made clear that Harry didn't believe a word he said and he sighed. "Well, the philosopher Talassio Amatio for example defined this sensation of pleasure derived from pain by the words 'magical high'." He explained, hoping that the teen would understand what he tried to tell him. "Those regions of the brain that handle sexual stimulation and pain, they overlap, resulting in some individuals associating pain with sexual pleasure as the neurological reactions are intertwined."

"But, sir … what … what has … pain … to do with the brain?" Potter asked in confusion.

"Pain is something that is controlled by your brain." Snape answered, trying to find a way to explain it in a way so the boy would understand it. "As is sexual stimulation. And fear. It all comes back to your brain. There is – call it a control-system – that controls how much pain, stimulation or fear you actually feel, in which situations it is pleasant and in which situations it is unpleasant. And as this control system is in the same room, it can get mixed up together. In other words, pain as well as fear can be pleasant or unpleasant, depending on – if you are aroused or not."

Sighing defeated the teenager nodded and Snape immediately knew that he still didn't believe him. Well, he would learn it some day if he was right and for a moment a strange thought crossed his mind. Well, not really a thought, more the feeling of a thought. He brushed it away for now.

"However, let me try to explain the different terms to you, Mr. Potter." He said, continuing with the original subject. He would come back to the pleasant aspects of pain and fear during sexual stimulation on a later time, well – maybe. "Bondage and Discipline are two aspects of BDSM that do not necessarily relate to one another, but _can_ appear together. The term bondage describes the practice of restraining for pleasure. Strictly spoken, bondage means binding the partner by tying his or her limbs together – or by spreading them."

Potter by now had placed his head in his hands, groaning in frustration and Snape nearly smirked.

"That is stupid! Sir." The brat murmured between his fingers.

"Why would that be, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, already knowing the answer.

"Because no one would want to … well … you know …"

"I know what, Mr. Potter?" Snape growled – yet, he noted that his growl didn't sound as threatening as it normally would. "You might voice your thoughts. If you ever want to get over this shyness of yours, then you would have to learn to address things as they are."

Looking up at him for a moment the teen shook his head and then sacked back into a ball, his face buried in his arms that lay above his knees. "Because no one would want to … be restrained as you said. And especially not during … well … sex."

"You would be surprised how much people actually would want this, Mr. Potter." Snape said.

"How?" Harry then asked. "How can anyone want this?"

"It is possible as – and here we come to the part of BDSM being consensual – it is in your own hands how far your partner would go, Mr. Potter, and when he would stop with whatever he is doing. And if it is not consensual, then it is rape and thus a crime. But as long as it is consensual, as long as both partners have agreed to it, everything is allowed and – nearly – everything can be pleasant. You just need the right partner and you need to trust your partner. You need to trust him blindly. That he would not hurt you, and that he knows what he does."

Again sighing in defeat the teen nodded and again Snape immediately knew that he still didn't believe him. He continued nevertheless.

"The term discipline describes the use of rules and punishment to control behaviour in BDSM. Punishment always will be physically as well as psychologically. If the bottom is caned, it is physically. But it is psychologically as well as the bottom feels the anticipation. Is the bottom only restrained, it is psychically, for the loss of freedom, but physically as well as his or her body is restrained."

This time Potter didn't say anything, he just shook his head that still lay on his arms.

"You still do not believe me, Mr. Potter." Snape stated, amusement in his voice. He still remembered that he himself had reacted the very same way when he had been confronted with the subject for the first time.

"That is even more stupid as is the rest, sir." Potter said. "I don't know much about … well … sex, yes. But even I know that this has nothing to do with it. It is force and it is cruel and it is … it is … is … damn, I don't know what it is, but it sounds like it's really terrible and horrible."

Noticing what he had said he nearly gasped. "I'm sorry, sir." He mumbled.

"There is no reason to be, Mr. Potter." Snape answered. "This is a discussion and thus you may voice your opinion. On the contrary. I am glad that you finally partake in this conversation so I do not have to address the wall behind you."

Again there was something like amusement blazing in Potter's eyes, just for a second before it was gone, and the teen's face was back to a mask of confusion and fear and Snape lifted his eyebrow.

"But I do not understand it, sir." Potter managed to say. "Why would anyone want to have such? To be restrained? You even mentioned punishment and … and … well …"

"And what, Mr. Potter?" Snape sighed in annoyance. He had to remind him – yet again – to voice what he wanted to say.

Swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath Harry managed to say "and beatings" before he buried his face back onto his arms, his body tense. Yet, Snape had noticed and he had noticed the flush too that had gone and the face that had become pale and he frowned at the teenager in front of him.

"Surely I did not mention a beating, Mr. Potter." He said, his voice very serious now. "I mentioned a caning. And those two words do not mean the same. A beating is senseless thrashing with hands, fists, and whatever beating instruments one might find. It is not what covers behavior in BDSM. A caning is an art. It is need of skill there and practice. Otherwise you could hurt your partner severely."

Potter mumbled something incoherent that sounded like just asking someone.

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked. "I did not understand that last one."

"Nothing, sir." Potter answered, his face still pale and Snape narrowed his eyes at the brat. Somehow it disturbed him, he wasn't able to put a name to it, but the teen's reaction somehow disturbed him. Well, he had reacted the same way, but that had been for a reason. He had learned what pain meant from a very young age on. What real pain meant.

"Shall we call it to an end here, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

"No, sir." The teen answered. "If I go now, I won't come back."

"What exactly is it, Mr. Potter, that disturbs you so much at the thought?" Snape wanted to know. "A lot of people would be rather aroused at this thought."

"I just can't imagine that anyone would want this." The boy answered in a low voice. "It just sounds like a hellhole of pain and fear. It sounds … it sounds … cruel."

"And it might be, if practiced with the wrong partner or if it isn't consensual." Snape said, leaning back. "With the wrong partner whom you do not trust, the fear you would feel would not be a pleasant one but real fear. And with the wrong partner who does not know what he does, you – most likely – would not feel pleasant pain but real pain. What is the exact reason why I told you, you do need the right partner for such. And if it is not consensual, then too it is not pleasant but force. It would be – as I already told you – rape and thus a crime."

"But I still do not understand it, sir." Harry said, shaking his head.

"And I guess you will not understand until you made your own experiences in the subject." Snape sighed in frustration. Why had the boy to be so stubborn? Why wouldn't he want to use his fantasy? His imagination? Why had the boy to be so …

Well, shaking his head Snape had to remind himself that he had been just as stubborn, that he had been just as ignorant and that he had been just as unbelieving as Potter now was when he had been educated in this special art of sex. Until he'd had his first careful experiences and he wondered if his Master back then had been as frustrated with him as he now was with the teen in front of him.

Well, at least he had one advantage. He was a wizard.

Harry would not be able to fool _him_ – by untying himself for example, and he nearly chuckled at the memory.

The Master who had educated him in BDSM had been a muggle and well – he, Severus, he had driven him mad sometimes when he was annoyed at the man. Now – years later – he knew that it hadn't been fair. But back then, he just had been annoyed when his Master didn't allow him to touch himself while he was in need of doing just this.

How he had ended up being educated by a muggle, well, he didn't really remember it exactly.

He had been frustrated. And he had been angry. And he had been wandering the streets of London aimlessly.

He had known that Lily would be the only woman he ever would love. And he had known that Lily had loved him back. But he also had known that there had been Potter, James Potter, and that this damn macho was about to dance around the woman he loved. Today he knew that Lily hadn't been interested in Potter in this way, that he had married Potter only because Dumbledore had expected this of her. But back then he had feared that Lily wouldn't love him anymore. That she would begin to love Potter.

After all Potter had had an own estate. He had not.

Potter had been free and he had been about to become an Auror. He – Severus – hadn't been free from his abusing father back then and he had been about to gain his mastery in potions only.

Potter had been handsome, at least everyone said so. He, Severus, was not.

There had been so many things, and he had been beaten by his father this very evening and thus he had run away and was wandering the nightly streets through London when he had stumbled over the muggle.

The man had lifted his eyebrow upon seeing him and he had taken him into a pub where he – without further ado – shoved him into a room in the back to clean the cuts on his face.

He still didn't know why he had allowed this man doing so. He normally would have denied everything and he normally would have threatened the man to leave him alone, refusing help as always. But this man, he had been radiating strength, sureness and safety, an aura that left no room for arguments, and Severus, the boy – had given in to the man.

Soon they had been discussing the subjects of the abuse he had gone through at the hands of his father, and soon the man had told him "you will not go back there, Severus. I do not have much, but I have a spare room and you will have a warm meal each day".

Well, and thus Severus had freed himself from his father and he had ended up living with a stranger, a muggle.

Soon after that they had talked about Lily, about Potter, about sex in general, about the finer art of BDSM and at first Severus had been disgusted. He even had accused the man that he wouldn't do anything different than his father had done if he practiced BDSM.

Well, the man had just smiled at him and he had shown him what BDSM exactly was. That it wasn't abuse, that it wasn't mistreatment. And that it wasn't horrible. He had shown him that it was pleasant. That it sometimes meant pain, even fear, yes – but that it was pleasant pain, and that it was more pleasant anticipation than actually fear, that it was nothing akin to what his father had done to him. And he had learned.

Later, a few weeks later, he'd been sleeping with Lily. He had shown her what he wanted, he had shown her what sex had become to him, and she had been fascinated. She had told him that she never before had felt so safe and so anticipated, even tense at the same time, that she had never felt the same way with Potter.

Well, of course he had learned everything afterwards from his Master back then that there was to learn about BDSM. And he gladly played the submissive part as long as he had to in order to learn, in order to become perfect one day – for Lily.

This day had come, he had become a Master. Not only a Potions Master, but a Master concerning BDSM as well. His Master had said so. He had said to him that there wasn't anything more he could teach him, that he had become perfect. That he was impressed by the passion he displayed, by the perfect balance between keeping him suffering and keeping him stimulated.

And then Lily had died.

And it had been his fault.

Sighing he came back to the present and to the boy that still sat in front of him, watching him curiously.

"One day, you will understand, Mr. Potter. I am sure about this." Snape said.

"Do _you_ understand?" Harry asked. "I mean, do you really understand? Do you know what it feels like? Do you … well … you know …"

"Do I know what, Mr. Potter?" Snape lifted his eyebrow towards the boy. "Do vocalize what you want to ask – or say."

"Well. Do you practice … well … this kind of … well … do you practice … BDSM?" The teenager asked and Severus nearly chuckled. This boy really could be slow sometimes.

"Did you not realize it yet, Mr. Potter?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Going deeper into the subject … and giving in to what the heart tells …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	5. giving in to the heart

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_"Well. Do you practice … well … this kind of … well … do you practice … BDSM?" The teenager asked and Severus nearly chuckled. This boy really could be slow sometimes._

_"Did__ you not realize it yet, Mr. Potter?"_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter five **

**Giving in to the heart**

Severus Snape paced his office – since more than just one hour now – running a small path into the stony floor – running a long fingered hand over his face from time to time – well, he definitely was frustrated to no end.

The evening before he had thought of his old master and this thought automatically had led to another one. He was a master for himself now, and not only a Potions Master. He had been searching for years now for a student talented enough in potions to hand his knowledge down, which he could take as an apprentice. But the only two thus far had been Draco and Granger. And Draco was too much a spoiled child without the responsibility that was needed when working with dangerous potions, and Granger was too much related on her books, she never would be able to initiate a potion by her own.

But potions – was not the only knowledge he could hand down. And Harry was a student who wanted to know more. The boy was young and inexperienced, he was handsome and he was submissive. And he would be able to teach him …

But he did not want this. How could he want this? He loved his boundaries and he loved his solitude. He wanted to be left alone and he wanted to keep his privacy.

And at the same time he knew that Harry would be the perfect person. He knew that it would be only logically to pass his knowledge down to that boy. They would be able to share his knowledge and his experiences, and maybe one day, when he was dead, the brat would be able to hand down this very knowledge to another young man who …

It took him several seconds before he realized what had happened just now. He had automatically assumed that his relationship with Harry – whatever kind of relationship that might be – would continue – maybe even for years.

And this very thought had not even disturbed him yet.

Placing his hands onto the backrest of one of the armchairs the Potions Master felt the world shift slightly as he experienced a moment of knowledge, a moment of foresight and he cursed. That was rubbish. He wasn't a seer. It was only his fears that played a cruel joke on him and nothing more. But at the same time he somehow knew that it would come true.

He dropped his head into his hands with a low groan of frustration, knowing that he was too far in trouble to safe himself.

The soft knock on his office door, the one he immediately recognized as Harry's, made him straighten up and giving away a soft "enter" and the teenager opened the door, entered his office and Severus stared at the boy for a long moment until he felt Harry shift nervously from foot to foot and he pulled himself together.

"Sit." He said, pointing at the armchair the boy had occupied during the past evenings. But as soon as Harry had taken his seat Snape found himself at a loss as to how to proceed and he continued to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace for a few minutes, stopping only when he heard a soft and unsure "sir?" coming from the teenager and when he turned to watch the boy, Potter shrunk back in his chair.

He cast a long look at the teenager and he noticed that even if Potter maintained a strong mask of indifference, his body language spoke volumes to him as he watched the teen shrink further back into the armchair where he was seated.

'_This boy is a walking contradiction.'_ He couldn't help thinking.

Pulling himself together he seated himself into the other armchair opposite the boy and sighed.

"We have covered bondage and discipline yesterday." He so suddenly started that Potter gave away a slight flinch. "I wish to continue today with the next set of terms, with dominance and submission. It is a set of behaviours, customs and rituals relating to the giving and acceptance of dominance of one individual over another in an erotic context. It explores the more mental aspect of BDSM. The range of its individual characteristics is therefore wide."

"Uhm … what means?" Harry asked, blinking confused. This at least didn't sound as frightening and as alarming as the things with bondage and discipline and he was relieved somehow. He could deal with _this_.

"Well, examples of mentally orientated practices are _education games_, during which the dominant requires certain forms of behaviour from his submissive." The Potions Master explained. "Or the most established form – and the probably most cliché set – of dominance and submission is dominance and slavedom_._"

Ok, here they were and Harry shivered. Slavedom. That didn't sound too good either.

"That doesn't sound really appealing." He murmured. "I would not want to be a slave."

"Neither _is _it a kind of slavedom you now might imagine, Mr. Potter." Snape said, lifting his hand to stop the boy from going on with this line of thoughts. "It does _not_ have anything to do with really being a slave. Nor is it for twenty-four hours a day. It rather is administrated for the short duration of a session among otherwise emancipated partners. Of course it also can be integrated into everyday life indefinitely. In a few relationships, it leads as far as total submission of one partner in the truest sense of the phrase _total power exchange_. A dangerous kind of relationship, as one individual will be under the total power of another."

"That doesn't sound too good." Harry said, shivering again and Severus lowered his head to one side while he watched the teenager close. Was the boy just startled? Was he cold? He had lit the fire an hour before the boy had come down to his office, knowing that even during the weeks of September and October the dungeons were cold in the evening hours.

The boy was pale, paler than the days before and somehow he seemed to be unwell today.

"Correct." He said. "The danger of losing the perspective is too high a risk in my opinion. Compensating elements of the dominance and submission – never mind which kind of dominance and submission - are care and devotion, they balance one another and thus make stable relationships possible. Nevertheless I prefer such for only the duration of the actual session and not for twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week."

"You would like to really … well … play … such a role? Sir?" Harry asked, watching him unsurely. "I mean, well … you said that it … that the participants played roles … I mean, you said it is a role-play."

"That is correct, Mr. Potter." Severus said. "It is a role-play during which the participants play out their fantasies. It has nothing to do with all-day life. Yet - let me assure you, that never I would play the submissive part."

"That fits." Harry murmured. "But why would _anyone _want to play a slave? Sir?" He then asked.

"Well, there actually are a lot whose fantasy goes into this direction – what leads us to the next set of terms, to sadism and masochism."

The teenager sitting in front of him gulped nervously and Snape couldn't help smirking. "The term sadomasochism is derived from the words sadism and masochism. In the context of consensual sexual activities, sadism and masochism are not strictly accurate terms. Sadism just describes sexual pleasure derived by inflicting pain, degradation, or humiliation on another person. On the other hand, the masochist enjoys being bound, spanked or suffering within the consensual scenario."

"Uhm … why has this all to be so … so … so horrifying somehow? So cruel?" Harry asked and he blinked tiredly at the Potions Master. He hadn't slept well the past two nights and meanwhile he felt the tiredness as clearly as if he were back at Privet Drive.

"Sadism does not automatically imply causing real pain, Mr. Potter." Snape explained. "Just an example, I definitely enjoy it seeing you squirm in order to find an answer you are able to actually vocalize. Nevertheless I never would enjoy it to cause real pain to you. And masochism on the other hand does not imply enjoyment through receiving pain in other situations than sexual ones like accidental injury, real punishments or similar occasions."

"But it … it doesn't change the fact that it still is punishment and that it still is …" Harry stopped, a desperate look on his face and Snape lifted his eyebrow.

"That it still is what?" Snape asked.

"That … I don't know … you said it wasn't a … well … a beating." The boy chocked out and Snape narrowed his eyes, wondering why the boy was so afraid of the thought. "That there was a difference between … between a … beating and … well, a … a caning. But it still is the same. It still is … it is not right. No one should … no one should beat another one."

"You are right, Mr. Potter." Severus said, his voice quiet and very serious and his dark eyes fixed him with a nearly kind and warm gaze. "No one should beat another living being. To beat someone, especially someone who is defenceless like children for example or women, or any kind of younger and smaller persons, is the lowest of the low and it is called abuse. It is a crime and it is not right to do so. But neither is the submissive part in a BDSM relationship forced to take a punishment like a caning as I already told you, it is consensual and the frame of the actual game is arranged beforehand by all involved individuals and the submissive part always can make use of his – or her – safe word, nor is a caning during a sexual game carried out with all force but carefully, compared to what the submissive part is able to take while still feeling pleasure. What is the exact reason as to _why _I said it is an art that has to be learned in order to avoid real pain that quickly could turn the pleasure into an unpleasant feeling and thus would drive the recipient into an emotional breakdown - and in order to avoid real injuries. It is far away from a beating you now might imagine."

"But … if it is so complicated …" Harry began, his voice still low and unsure. "Then why doing it in the first place?"

"Because it is a game with senses and because it is a game with emotions." Severus answered. "And this kind of game is freeing endorphins and thus is - simply stimulating. It carries you into an entire different world, into a world that is compared to nothing else existent in this universe."

Running his hand over his face he watched the teenager in front of him for another few moments, carefully and thoughtfully, and again the thought from earlier came to his mind.

The brat was clenching his hands together in a tight knot, a nervous habit he soon had learned during the past few evenings that the boy did unconsciously, not noticing it by himself and for a moment he just sat there and stared, trying desperately to block out what he was feeling, what he was thinking and for a moment he began to recite potions ingredients in his mind. Yet – it didn't work and the thoughts burst forwards, unwanted.

The boy is the perfect person to act as my submissive.

The boy is handsome and small, slender and light.

The boy's two hands fit into one of mine.

The boy is submissive and inexperienced.

Severus sighed defeated.

"Do you trust me, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

"Of course, sir." Harry answered, blinking at him in confusion. Snape had asked him this very question the day before, before he had …

"Why?" Was all Snape asked, fixing him with his sternest gaze he could muster.

"Well, dunno." The boy answered. "Because you are the only one that never lied to me. My friends, and even the headmaster, they all pretend they care, but they do not really care. They … well, Ron and Hermione only want me because of my fame. They can achieve anything if their friend is … well … _Harry Potter_ … and for the headmaster I'm nothing more than a weapon on the war. You however, you never lied to me. You always showed the hate towards me you felt. And you never pretended you would care. You always made clear that you don't care."

This time it was Snape who nearly blinked at him – dumbfounded. The boy trusted him because he had displayed his hate for him openly? That was the most stupid answer he ever got, yet – it made perfectly sense and he nodded.

"Do you trust me, that I never would hurt you intentionally?" He asked further.

"Of course, sir." Came the answer from the teenager.

"Why?" Snape asked again.

"Because you already saved my neck a few times." Harry said. "Even if you hate me, you have been the one who always kept me safe. And it is one thing to keep someone safe you love, but is another thing keeping someone safe you hate."

Again Snape nearly blinked in shock, had a hard time to keep his indifferent mask in place. That answer was – unexpected. Not only did the boy acknowledge that he had saved his back more than once but he also acknowledged that he had done so even if he hated him. He had not considered the boy really acknowledging that he had saved his sorry behind even if he hated him. Well – just that he had discovered – he never really had hated the brat. He merely had hated the fact that he was the perfect image of his father he had hated. He might have disliked him, but hated? No, not really.

"Do you trust me that I know what I am doing?" He wanted to know.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered and as he seemed to know that the 'why?' would come, he continued by his own. "Because you are a spy. You have to know what you are doing. And because you are not easily excited or such kind of things. You are a severe man and you think things through. You use your common sense instead of your feelings."

A third time Snape had to keep himself from blinking in near shock. The answers Harry had given him actually proved his intelligence. He hadn't expected such serious answers from the boy.

"Listen, Professor." Harry took a deep breath. "I know you hate me to no end. And I know that your view of me is as low as it possibly can be. But I also know that you take your responsibilities serious. And I know that you are not the Death Eater that so many of the others are seeing in you. I know that you are intelligent and reasonable, and I would trust you blindly with my life if it would be necessary." Shrugging his shoulders he averted his eyes.

Still Snape looked at the blasted brat in front of him and for a moment he had to fight hard to keep his emotions under control and from showing on his face.

This boy trusted him. This boy whom he had tortured during the past five years trusted him. Him!

He was Severus Snape. And he surely was anything else than a trustworthy man. No one, absolutely no one besides of Albus and maybe Minerva ever had trusted him.

But this boy did. This damn brat _did _trust him!

"First, Mr. Potter," he finally began, "you are under a misconception that I wish to correct. I do not _hate _you. And actually I never hated _you_, Mr. Potter. It was merely dislike I felt. Yet - I did not even dislike _you_, but that what you _personate_. Namely James Potter's son, the son of my childhood enemy. But as you already fund out by yourself, we are able to have a conversation that is quite civil, and no, Mr. Potter, I do not dislike that what you represent anymore." For a moment Snape pinched the bridge of his nose before he continued. "To be honest, I have seen that you are not your father but a person by yourself and I even enjoy our conversations, otherwise I would not have this particular conversation with you just now."

This time it was Potter who looked up at him in shock as if to say "surely I haven't heard rightly".

"Second, Mr. Potter," Snape continued, "we will hope that it never will happen that your life depends on anyone. But if it might be one day, then let us hope that it will be me, as yes, I would do everything in my power to keep you alive. And safe."

Again he paused, watched the teenager in front of him, wondering if he really was ready to do this, if he really wanted to take this step with the teenager. The boy was sixteen, for heaven's sake. He still was a child. In some ways at least.

"And third, Mr. Potter, I _do_ care." He said, his voice low now and serious, his dark eyes piercing Harry as if he would look into his soul – or into his mind. "I might not have shown it in the past, and maybe I did not even recognize it by myself earlier, but I _do_ care. I know that I have a reputation as a careless bastard, but in contrary to common believe there are a few people I actually _do_ care about."

Well – in a year Potter would be an adult in the wizarding world. And a lot of wizards bonded a year before they came of age. And not even the difference in age meant a lot as it was quite common in the wizarding world that one partner was much older than the other one. Especially if it came to pairs the same gender. And honestly, if watching Albus, with his one-hundred and forty-eight years, it wouldn't make such a difference if his partner would be one-hundred and twenty-eight.

And yes, Harry would be perfect. The boy was not only intelligent. He was handsome, he was desirable and he was a submissive, he was smaller than him, than most of his classmates and probably never would grow taller than he was. He would be the perfect partner to him. But was he really ready for such? And more important, was the boy ready?

Finally Severus nodded slowly. "I have told you that trust is very important when it comes to BDSM. To every kind of relationship. Trust, honesty and communication. And I want you to be really honest now, Mr. Potter, not only towards me, but towards yourself either. Are you interested in only the theoretical education concerning sex - and BDSM especially, as it seems? Or would you consider a practical education as well? To enter a relationship with someone who is experienced in this kind of sexual interaction?"

Potter lifted his head and looked at him, startled, his eyes wide and he gasped for a moment, then blinked at him. He didn't give an answer for a long time and Snape waited patiently, watching the teenager close.

"I don't know someone who actually would … well …" He began and Snape sighed. They were back to stammering.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, lifting his eyebrow at the boy. Potter really needed to learn voicing such things that concerned sexuality.

"Well." The teenager took a deep breath, his face even more pale than it already had been before. "There surely is no one who actually would want to have me." Harry finally said, in a tone that made clear that he really believed it and that he clearly was uncomfortable admitting it. Snape frowned.

"Actually, there is someone, Mr. Potter." He carefully said, narrowing his eyes at the teenager in front of him.

The boy looked back up at him, his eyes wide. "But … who … surely there … I don't know … no, there surely isn't …"

"There is. Don't you know whom I mean, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, not ready yet to admit that he meant himself and risking being laughed at.

But then - he had felt the shift. And somehow he already knew the boy's answer. What had been the reason _why _he had asked this question in the first place. Otherwise he never would have done so. Absolutely never!

"I'm not sure." Harry whispered, not sure if he could dare asking Snape if the man meant himself, not even sure if he would want this. "You surely can't mean … well, you said someone a few years older than me. And the seventh years surely are out of question then. They are just one year older. But otherwise there are only adults here."

"In a year you will be an adult, Mr. Potter." Snape said in a low voice, his gaze serious.

"So you only can think of a teacher." Harry said, but then sighing he bent forwards, leaning his arms onto the table and his head onto his arms. "And as there is no one besides of you with whom I had this conversation … but well … you surely wouldn't want me … so where's the point in your question, sir?"

Even as the boy murmured through his arms Snape could hear the fear and the misery in the teenager's voice.

"This only can be a joke. And it is a cruel joke as there is no one with common sense who actually would want me." The boy choked out.

Narrowing his eyes for a moment Snape left his armchair and walked over to the hunched over teenager that clearly was close to tears now and sat onto the edge of the table, grasping the boy's shoulders and forced him up so he had to look at him.

"I would not have suggested it, if I would not want doing this, Mr. Potter." He said, his voice serious and his gaze fixed at the brat. "I would not have suggested it, if I would not want to have you, Mr. Potter. I might not be a kind man, nor might I be a friendly man. I am difficult, I have a temper and I can be right out nasty. But you already do know this. However, I never would hurt you and I would care for you. I already do. It is your choice. But know that I do not share. If you chose a relationship with me, I won't share you with any other one."

"But …" Harry whispered roughly between sobs. "But you cannot be serious, sir. You are a teacher, and even if you don't hate me anymore, you hated me for so long and you made clear that I am low in your opinion."

Snape sighed heavily and he closed his eyes for a moment before he lifted his hand to brush a tear from the boy's pale face.

"I merely said this to hurt you because I disliked you, Harry, or thought I disliked you. But in fact, I do not think low of you." Snape whispered back, not sure if he did the right thing. What if Harry didn't want him? He was an old man. And he was the boy's teacher. And he wasn't handsome either. What if he made a fool out of himself?

"But you should!" The boy suddenly sobbed, bending forwards again, forcefully, as if to fold himself into half and burying his face in his arms. "I'm stupid, and I'm weak, and I'm silly and I'm ugly, and clumsy and scrawny and bad and evil and … and … a freak … and … and …"

Snape blinked at the teenager in front of him, not even able to stop the boy before he ran out of words to insult himself with. What in Merlin's name …

Growling in anger he forced the boy up by his shoulders again and placed his fingers under the teenager's chin, forcing his head up.

"Stop this nonsense this instant, Mr. Potter and look at me!" He commanded in his sternest voice. "You are none of all this nonsense you just insulted yourself with. Actually you are intelligent and you are handsome. And the fact that you are unaware of this makes you just the more desirable. I would be a fool if I wouldn't want you. You surely are not evil and you are not stupid, you are not ugly and you are not weak. So stop accusing yourself of such."

"You just say this." Harry continued to sob. "No one would want me. And everyone always said I'm stupid and weak and bad and …"

"Have you ever known me telling lies to spare someone's feelings?" Snape asked to keep the brat from insulting himself further again.

The teenager snorted in a half laugh through his tears and shook his head before his face became miserable again.

"Well, Potter, then you will have to believe me when I inform you that you actually _are _worth my care." Snape growled darkly, pulling the teenager against his chest, feeling the slender form in his arms that fit perfectly there and somehow he knew that it was right, that it was what had to be, knowing that fate had just unfold itself.

"You may be impatient and you may be foolhardy." The Potions Master continued, running his hand over thin shoulders and he growled at how thin the boy was before he again placed a hand under the brat's chin to lift his face so Potter had to look into his eyes. "And you may drive me to madness with your potions work, but you are not bad Potter and you are worth my care. You are worth my attention. The more important question for me is – would you want to have an old and grumpy man who can be right-out nasty and difficult?"

Snape hadn't finished his question completely when Harry already had turned his face into the man's robes and sobbed even more. But this time his tears were not the harsh sobs of the frustration the boy had felt, nor those of his anger or fear. This time they were the quiet sobs of a child's grief and pain and the Potions Master somehow knew that the boy didn't believe a word he just had said and he was at a loss.

Snape wasn't sure what he should do. He wasn't sure what was wrong. And he wasn't sure if he should take it as a good sign or as a bad one. He knew the boy had an emotional breakdown, but he didn't know _why_.

Of course the teenager had just released all his insecurities by insulting himself in the most evil way possible. And he had witnessed it. Thus – well, yes, of course he knew the reason. But he didn't know why it affected the boy thus that he sobbed uncontrollably in his arms, he didn't know why the boy felt such incredible emotionally pain, and he didn't know why the boy was so insecure and felt so low of himself in the first place.

So, without any other idea left he just stroke his hand up and down the teenager's back, not trying to calm him, just trying to comfort him somehow. If the boy felt such incredible grief and pain, then maybe he should allow him to just release what was hidden there behind this mask he so often had mistaken for arrogance.

"Sorry." The teenager finally murmured between his sobs. "I'm sorry, sir."

"There is no need to be." Snape said, holding the brat at arm length from him to look into the young face. "Sometimes it is necessary to release what emotions there are hidden."

"I never …" Harry blushed and looked aside, his hands clenched into each others in a tight knot again. "Normally I never do such. Crying like a baby."

"Just the more reason so." Snape growled. "Might I be correct in the assumption that you would not believe me if I told you that even adults sometimes have to cry? Like a baby, as you so eloquently put it?" Snape asked and there was nothing of his usual sneer in his face while he ran his thumb over the teenager's face in an attempt to dry away the tears.

"You just caught me by surprise." Harry mumbled and Severus shook his head. The boy hadn't listened to him.

"And I said it is quite alright to release what ever emotions are hidden there. So stop worrying." He said and while he dried the tears of the brat that was the son of his dead enemy he couldn't help but wonder how everything had changed so quickly – too quickly – so quickly and so completely he couldn't grasp it in his mind somehow.

"You didn't give me an answer to my earlier question yet, Mr. Potter." Snape said and for a moment worry threatened to choke him.

"What question, sir?" The brat actually asked, still between soft sobs and for a moment Snape wondered if he tried to make fun of him, if he had forgotten the question already in his upset state of mind or if he had grasped the questions at all. He didn't know if he should be hurt or patient.

"The question if you would want an old and grumpy man who could be quite nasty and difficult." Severus growled darkly.

"That is not a joke?" Harry asked, looking up into those deep, black eyes with a nearly begging gaze.

"Did I ever give you the impression of being a man who made jokes?" Severus asked sarcastically, but then he grew serious again. This teenager was not James Potter, nor was he any student with any kind of self-confidence. He was a teenager who rather lacked every bit of self-belief. "No, it is not a joke, Mr. Potter." He said.

"But I'm just a child." The brat said. "What could I give you?"

"I do not want to have anything from you besides of your trust and your loyalty." Snape said. "Nor do I expect you to grow into an adult overnight. You are a teenager and I am fully aware of what I get myself into."

There was a long pause in which the boy watched the Potions Master unsurely, fearful even, but then he slowly nodded, nearly shrinking into himself and away from him, as if he expected to be laughed at, to be punished, maybe even to be beaten upon his next words.

"I would. Yes." The boy murmured. "I just don't know if it is ok with you. And I don't know if I'll be able to live up to your expectances. I'm not sure if I …"

"I already told you, I do not expect of you to grow into an adult over night and I am fully aware of what I get myself into. I just want you to trust me and to know that I will not share you with anyone else. That is all I expect of you."

"I can do that!" The brat answered and for the first time Snape saw something like hope flash in those green eyes. Maybe, well maybe he had made the right decision.

There was a small pause, then -

"Let us have a late dinner." The Potions Master growled at the childish outburst. Yet – it wasn't a dark growl and he felt as if he was whole suddenly, felt as if something that had been missing was back in place where it belonged to.

"I'm sure I can't stomach anything now." Harry murmured and Snape cast a long look at him.

"One should consider you being hungry, given that you are not eating since days but nibbling on a dry piece of toast during each dinner only." The older wizard lifted an eyebrow at the younger one, his arms folded in front of his chest.

"Wherefrom do you know that?" The teenager asked confused.

"One person _has _to keep an eye on you, Potter." Snape smirked. "Just to ensure you would not end up in trouble and get yourself killed by trolls, dragons or three headed dogs."

"Not to mention Voldie." The brat murmured and Snape shot him a serious glance.

"Do not joke with such, Harry." He sternly said. "A troll, a dragon and Hagrid's blasted three headed dog are harmless compared to the Dark Lord. I do not wish to lose what I just gained. So do not joke about this, Harry."

Harry lowered his gaze, not able to look into those dark eyes that watched him intensely. He wasn't sure yet if it was safe to do so, he wasn't sure yet if it was safe to believe the situation, to believe that Snape really would want him, that _someone _would want him. He wasn't sure if it wasn't just a dream. He wasn't even sure if this really was what he wanted. Well, yes – it definitely _was _what he wanted. But he surely wasn't sure if it was what Snape really wanted. And if Snape didn't want this and then would abandon him, then maybe it just was better if he didn't want this also. He wouldn't be too hurt this way, would he?

Sensing the teenager's thoughts the Potions Master placed his hand on his shoulders to reassure him before he refilled the cup that sat in front of Harry on the table.

"At least drink one more cup of tea before you go back to your tower." The Potions Master said and he added extra sugar into the teen's cup, watching the boy sipping on the hot drink.

The boy really was too pale for his liking today. But then – maybe it just was the shock. One doesn't get asked by his teacher for a relationship every day, that much was sure and he knew that the brat must have been really shocked.

What he didn't understand was the reason as to why Harry was as unsure when it came to his own person as he had seen this evening. The things he had insulted himself with, somehow he knew that they had not been born in the boy's mind entirely by himself. They had been planted in there. And he was curious as to who had planted those ideas into the boy's mind.

Well, most likely his relatives and he remembered some memories he had seen during their occlumency lessons last year.

He would have a talk with the teen about them, but not now. Just now Potter would have to deal with the idea of being in a relationship with his teacher and he would have to find a way to deal with this new situation. It would be as difficult for the teen as it would be for himself, he was sure of this.

"This isn't a dream, right?" Harry suddenly asked. "I mean … you really will show me, you know, what it's supposed to be like?" Harry swallowed audibly. "What … what it is to be like to have someone who cares?"

Again Snape was momentarily speechless, just able to nod at the teenager. Harry really wanted _him_, cold, uncaring Snape, to do this. While he could have anyone ne the planet. He still did not know what to say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words were forthcoming and he began to understand how the teenager felt.

He placed his hands onto Harry's shoulders and locked his black eyes into the teenager's green ones for a moment before he pulled the boy close against his chest.

"Yes, I will." He finally whispered. "I just do not know how you could want such a cold and aged man like me."

"I don't know, but you're not cold." Harry whispered back, not able to say the words out loud but somehow knowing that it was the right thing, somehow knowing that this was what safety meant, suddenly understanding that the man really always had kept him safe. "I want to be with you. I feel … safe, when I'm with you. I feel … cared for. Please don't push me away."

"I shall keep you safe with my life." Snape whispered into Harry's ear, speaking the ancient words unconsciously, not realizing what exactly he caused with those words. "I shall protect you with my last breathe I own. And I shall care for you with my last ounce of will. But I shall not share you with any other human being on this earth, neither man nor woman, nor will I ever betray the trust you placed into my hands."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

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**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Going deeper into the subject … and closing the eyes …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	6. a new situation

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

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break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_"I shall keep you safe with my life." Snape whispered into Harry's ear, speaking the ancient words unconsciously. "I shall protect you with my last breathe I own. And I shall care for you with my last ounce of will. But I shall not share you with any other human being on this earth, neither man nor woman, nor will I ever betray the trust you place__d into my hands."_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter six **

**A new situation**

Severus Snape was sitting behind the desk in his office, a cup of tea in his fingers and waiting for Harry, his mind wandering back to the events of the previous night, not sure if he had made the right decision.

On one hand he thought yes. Potter seemed perfect to him. He was a handsome young man and he was kind, respectful and caring. Now that he had seen a new side on the teenager he had begun to see other things than his hatred, things that he had missed during the years because he had not been ready to see them.

But now – well, it was not lack of manners whenever Harry hadn't answered his questions. It just was his strange inability to voice his thoughts – and his feelings - sometimes. And it wasn't that he tried to ignore him whenever he averted his eyes, nor that he tried to lie to him. It just was his strange insecurity that seemed to befall the boy at every turn he took.

Harry was small and slender, a bit too thin, yes, but he could work on that with watching the teenager's eating habits. He would however fit perfectly into his arms. He would be able to lift the boy perfectly without any efforts. And he would be able to care for him, to worry about him and to protect him in all means.

The boy was young and inexperienced. He would be able to teach him in ways that were entirely new to him. He would have to be careful, yes. The boy was nothing like the men he'd had during the years. And he would have to be patient too, yes. The boy would be startled too easily, would maybe even be afraid. But he would be able to show him things he never had dreamed about. He would be able to teach the boy how to allow himself to feel.

And – not to mention the fact that Harry _was_ submissive. The most important fact, as he – Snape – never would play a submissive part in any relationship. He had dominated his sex-partners since he had been educated in the arts of BDSM so many years ago. Back then he had allowed to play the submissive part in order to learn. But that was long years back.

And again somehow the Potions Master felt that there suddenly was a part in him that had been missing, a part that now was back and filling a space in him that had been empty for years, that was now back in place where it belonged to and it felt right.

There was a reason suddenly.

But on the other hand, Harry was a teenager. The boy maybe didn't want to have a long lasting relationship yet. And maybe he soon would find a much younger man than him and then he would abandon him. The teenager surely didn't know what he wanted yet and he would throw him aside as soon as he would have a better choice.

He – Snape – was an old man after all. Compared to the boy. He was twenty years older than Harry. He could be his father. He had attended school with the boy's father, damn.

And he wasn't good looking either, he knew this by himself. He wasn't as handsome as Harry was. The first war had left his scars on him, as had this second war already. Nor was he a kind man. He was a cold and indifferent man and he was a tough man, dark and cold and difficult, this as well he knew by himself.

And then there was the fact that he would have to be careful with Harry. Something he was not used to. He was used to handle the men whom he had sex with roughly. He was used to feel pain and he was used to cause pain. And he wasn't used to care.

But he would have to care for this boy. He would have to be gentle with him. The brat was young and inexperienced, he was small and fragile and he was insecure to no end. He much too easily would hurt the boy, physically and mentally, if he wouldn't be careful.

Well, and last but not least - somehow the boy was afraid of a lot of things.

Snape nearly laughed.

Harry had faced the Dark Lord – or his Death Eaters – at the end of nearly every term now since he had come to Hogwarts. He had faced a troll, a basilisk and a dragon. And still he was insecure and afraid of all-day life. Of him even, and he sighed. Presumably Harry's fear towards him, Snape, would even deepen at first, now as they had a relationship and he was the senior partner in their relationship, the dominating part and Harry the junior partner, the submissive part, he thought, until he learned that he would not _have_ to fear him.

Well, Harry had announced that he trusted him yesterday. That he trusted him blindly with his life. But Snape nevertheless knew that – even if the brat might believe himself that he trusted him – the teenager nevertheless feared him. That he really feared him. Not like the other students who just feared his sarcastic comments, who just feared him taking points from their houses, who just feared him to give out low marks and detention. No, Harry really feared him, he feared his hand and thus he knew, the boy feared being beaten by him, whatever reason for.

He didn't understand it, but he knew that he was right, he had seen the brat watching his hands. And he knew it wouldn't be easy with this teenager. Not to mention the fact that it was the first time he took someone under his care to educate him in the art of BDSM. Not to mention the fact that it was the first time that he took someone as a permanent partner. And – not to mention the fact that it was the first time that he considered having a relationship with a teenager.

There were just so many first times right now and …

The usual soft knock from Harry made him look up and he quickly shunned the worries he felt off his face and replaced them with his indifferent mask he always wore.

"Enter." He then called out and rose to his feet.

"Ev'ning." Harry murmured his greeting after entering the office, shuffling his feet for a moment over the stony floor and after watching him carefully, questioningly, searchingly, he quickly looked aside.

"Good evening, Harry." Snape said, watching the teenager for a moment with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Potter smiled for a second at his use of the boy's given name but immediately his face was back to unsureness, watching him warily, as if he feared the situation might have changed since yesterday evening and Snape lifted his eyebrow at him before he turned towards a door between the bookshelves.

"Act sanely." He muttered towards the picture of an elderly wizard sitting in a dungeon and the door swung open.

"Follow me." He then said, turning towards Potter and he waited until the teenager was close before he entered his private quarters, ignoring the elderly wizard who watched him and Harry suspiciously.

"I thought this might be a bit more comfortable than my office." He then said, crossing the large room and waving his wand towards the fireplace to evoke the flames to life.

Harry stood near the entrance door, not sure where to place himself and hesitantly he looked through the room.

The room itself was not really dark, even if it was down in the dungeons and no windows were here to allow any light in. It seemed as if a small light was coming from nowhere, illuminating the room into a soft glimmer that reminded him at candlelight. The furniture was of a dark but warm and welcoming brown and the walls in here as well as in the man's office nearly were covered with bookshelves. A side board stood to one side of the room, a piano and a small table stood opposite the entrance door and to the left was a large sofa, two armchairs and a coffee table near the fire.

"You might take a seat wherever you wish, Mr. Potter." Snape said, averting his hand towards the sofa and the armchairs and slowly Potter walked over and sat onto the edge of the armchair farthest away from the fire and again the Potions Master lifted his eyebrow at him, shaking his head. He poured tea into both cups and shoved a plate with sandwiches that stood on the table closer to the teenager.

"Eat." He growled. "I have noticed yet again that you have eaten nothing today besides of – _nibbling – _at a toast during dinner."

Potter cast a careful look at him before he hesitantly took a sandwich, mumbling something about not being hungry and Snape huffed unbelievingly.

"Uhm … may I ask a question, sir?" Harry asked carefully, his voice unsure and hesitant.

"You already do, Mr. Potter." Severus drawled, smirking at him. "But yes, you may ask as many questions as you like."

Well, he wasn't sure if he really wanted this. It might be that the brat would overcome his shyness some day and begin to ask holes into his stomach.

"Uhm … well … I just wanted to ask … are you … we …" Sighing in frustration the boy placed the sandwich back onto the plate. "I mean … the situation hasn't changed overnight, has it?" Harry finally ended his question and he sighed again, this time with relief. It was out. He had worried about this question the entire night.

For a moment the Potions Master wanted to say that he of course invited his students into his personal quarters at a regular basis and that thus of course it had noting to say about the status of their relationship but he decided against such an answer. The brat was insecure enough and he – just for once – should keep his sarcastic comments to himself.

"No, Mr. Potter." Snape's grip on his mug of tea tightened. Of course the situation hadn't changed overnight. "The situation still is the same. Otherwise I surely would not have invited you into my personal quarters. Or do you believe I invite my students in my personal quarters regularly?"

The short smile he gained for his answer was invaluable and he was glad that for once he had restrained himself from giving a snarky reply. "Eat." He simply said and Potter took the sandwich and took another bite.

"As your primal fear seems to be pain, fear, and what could happen otherwise, that BDSM is cruel, I want to cover the safety of this kind of sexual interaction today." Snape began and swallowing Harry placed the sandwich back on the plate.

Well, of course he had known that this wouldn't be over just because he … well, had a relationship with Snape now. But he hadn't expected the teacher to go on with this so quickly and so … as if nothing had happened. He had thought that maybe the man would want to talk about more private subjects. Not that sex wasn't a private subject, it definitely was. But he had thought that they … well … that maybe Snape would want to know more private things … such as what colour he liked, or what kind of food he preferred, or … well … anything else but such a sudden continuation of their previous conversations.

"I already have expressed to you how important safer sex is." Snape leaned back in his armchair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Aside from the general advice related to safer sex, BDSM sessions often require a much wider array of safety precautions than typical sexual behaviour without BDSM elements. The very broad range of different BDSM toys and physical and psychological control techniques requires a more far-reaching knowledge of details related to the requirements of the individual session, such as anatomy, physics, and psychology."

Harry gave no answer, he only nodded and he had to admit that he was quite relieved that they finally came to something that sounded safe.

"There are two poles on which BDSM is built on, as I already have explained to you." Snape explained. "The first is safe, sane and consensual. The other pole of the construction that is BDSM is trust, honesty and communication."

"That finally sounds safe and sane." The brat murmured and Snape had to suppress a grin.

"BDSM _is_ safe and sane." He said. "As long as it is consensual and practiced in a safe and sane way."

"Maybe." Potter sighed. "But somehow I still cannot relate … well, BDSM … to safe and sane. And not to consensual either."

Snape nodded. "Not now." He said in a quiet voice. "But maybe one day you will think otherwise."

"And if not?" Harry asked carefully. "Would you … I mean …" He broke off, looking aside, not able to look into those dark eyes for any longer.

"You mean, would I abandon you if you would not want to practice BDSM?" Snape asked and he gained a hesitant nod from the boy. "Nothing would change then, Potter." He reassured. "We just would not practice BDSM then."

"You mean – you wouldn't … I mean … well …"

"For Merlin's sake, no, brat." Snape shook his head. "I would not throw you away if you would not want to practice BDSM. Nor if you would not want practicing BD or DS or simply SM. Did I make it clear to you now?" He asked, wondering if he had missed any holes where the boy could have misunderstood him.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir." Potter murmured immediately and for a moment Snape closed his eyes and shook his head again. Well, he had known that the boy would fall deeper into his fear before he would begin to loosen up. Whatever reason for that was, he wondered again.

"There is no need to be, Harry." He said, his voice calmer. "You asked a reasonable question."

This time the teenager gave no answer and Snape settled on continuing his explanation.

"The fundamental principles for practicing BDSM require that it should be performed by mature and responsible partners, of their own decision and in a safe way. In order to ensure the maximum safety and comfort for the participants certain standards of behaviour have evolved during the past decades, these include aspects of courtesy, privacy, respect and safewords among others. These basic principles have been condensed into the motto 'safe, sane and consensual', which means that everything is based on safe, sane and consenting behaviour of all the involved partakers. This mutual consent makes a clear legal and ethical distinction between BDSM and crimes such as sexual assault or domestic violence."

Potter meanwhile had pulled off his shoes and now had drawn his feet onto the armchair, as close to his body as possible, as if he wanted to make himself as small as possible and he held the mug with the warm tea close to him, as if he tried to find warmth from the piece of porcelain. Snape said nothing to this, just frowned. Not at the fact that the brat had pulled his shoes off and had drawn his feet onto the armchair, if he felt comfortable this way, then be it. But at the fact that Potter tried to make himself as small as possible.

"To ensure consent related to BDSM activity, pre-play discussions are absolutely necessary, especially among partners who do not know each other very well." Here Snape paused to fix the boy with a serious gaze of his dark eyes to make his point. He knew that the teenager didn't like to actually talk about sex. Yet – he would have to learn it. "And here is the first overlap between the two poles. Consensual from the first pole and communication from the second pole, what thus proves that both poles overlap into each other. They come along with each other and you cannot separate them. However, these discussions concern the interests and fantasies of each partner and establish a framework. Additionally, safewords are arranged to provide for an immediate stop of any activity if any participant should so desire. It simply must be possible for both partners to withdraw his or her consent at any given time. Failure to honour a safeword is considered the most serious misconduct that can take place in BDSM and can even change the sexual consent situation into a crime as any actions which follow the use of the safeword is explicitly revoked."

"What exactly is … a safeword?" Potter asked unsurely. "Is it a spell? Or is it a simple word? And how can a word stop such things?"

"The safeword is not a spell as wizards and muggles often get mixed up together when it comes to this kind of sexual interaction as there are not too many people within the muggle world accepting BDSM as appropriate." Snape answered the question, glad that the teenager finally had begun asking them. "It is a simple word. Yet, it is not a simple word as 'no' or 'stop', as sometimes 'no' actually means 'yes' and as sometimes 'stop' actually means 'more'. The most common one is 'red' which means every action will stop as soon as you say it. And it _will_ stop." He added, sensing that this was the teenager's primal fear when he asked how a simple word would be able to stop any activities related to BDSM.

"You might hand the control you normally own over to someone else, Mr. Potter, but when it comes down to it, then nobody besides of you has it." Snape said. "That means, if there is a situation that you cannot handle anymore because it is getting too much for you, then you can stop things immediately. All you have to do is to say your safeword. This safeword will be your lifeline, your safety belt, your emergency break, your anchor – whatever you want to call it. Don't ever use it lightly but don't ever hesitate to use it if you need it."

"Uhm … wait a moment, sir." Potter said in confusion when he paused to wait if the teen had understood what he wanted to tell him and he lowered his head to one side in a questioning manner. "Well, sir … how … how can 'stop' mean 'more'? And how can 'no' mean 'yes'? I mean … 'stop' and 'no' are two clear words. They mean … well … they mean … just to stop."

"You might be right in a normal situation where nothing like sexual stimulation is involved." Snape sighed, not knowing how to explain it but knowing that the teenager was not ready yet so he could show it to him. "When being stimulated like thus, then the submissive partner often is not able to really voice what his body wants. The brain takes other directions than the body wants. And thus he might utter a 'no' during the pleasure he feels even if he actually means that the situation is pleasant. Or he mutters a rash and inconsiderate 'stop' under the strain of pleasure he feels while he actually wants more."

Severus watched the teenager nodding and something like realization crossed the young face. He seemed to see the point, even if he slightly paled and he wondered if the thought really startled the boy or if there was something else. Somehow he didn't like the far adrift look in those green eyes that seemed shocked and – somehow guilty?

"Harry?" The Potions Master asked, watching the boy close.

A brief, almost unnoticeable pause took place before Potter finally turned his eyes towards the Potions Master and Snape suspected the teenager might soon come to regret beginning a relationship with a spy that was used to notice each sign on his facial and bodily features.

"Are you alright, Harry?" He asked, concern audible in his voice, even for him.

"Yes, of course, sir. Sorry, sir." The sixteen year old answered. Yet – his voice didn't sound as if he really were alright. His voice rather sounded as if he were startled out of his wits, whatever reason for. They were covering a quite safe topic.

He would keep that in mind for a later point too.

"Very well, then. Safe and sane are terms that belongs together." Snape continued when he was sure that Potter had no further question to this at the moment. "It plainly translates into use your brain, even if you are stimulated, and don't allow the situation to get out of your hands. Don't try stuff like bonding, flogging, caning or even more so cutting, if you do not have experience with it. Let someone show it to you for you can seriously harm people if you do not know what you do. Every sane participant of BDSM has to understand practical safety aspects, for instance they recognize which parts of the human body have a risk of damage to nerves and blood vessels by contusion or have a high risk of scar development. The fine motor skills of a good top and his anatomical knowledge can make the difference between a satisfying session for the bottom and a highly unpleasant experience that may even entail severe physical harm."

"That sounds not really safe." Potter murmured and again the boy averted his eyes, looking at the fire, at the wall, at the mantelpiece and then at the floor. "It sounds as if a lot could go wrong."

"You are right, Mr. Potter." Snape said. "There actually _is_ a lot that can go wrong. What is the exact reason why it is important that you use your common sense and your gut feeling before you play with someone you do not know just because you are needy. That would be insane and not sane. Nor safe. If your common sense warns you that this might be a partner who does not regard safety or that this might be a scene that you might not want to be a part of, then listen to yourself."

The teenager nodded and Snape continued. "It might be possible that you just need to learn more about what is involved in the setting. Then talk, talk again, and finally talk some more. Ask questions, and vocalize what you want and what you do not want. But maybe you do not wish to play with this scene at all, for whatever reason it might be. A good and sensitive top will accept that. If not, then you should decide that you should not play with this person at all."

"What if … what if the partner does not listen? Or does not care?" Harry asked, fear clearly visible in his eyes this time, together with something Snape definitely recognized again as – guilt and he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Then it is not consensual." He repeated. He definitely was more patient than he had thought he would. "And if it is not consensual, then it is abuse, remember that, Mr. Potter. As I have said, both or more participants involved have agreed to play with one another. They have talked about a certain setting and about what they want, about what they are ready to do and about limits or things that do not go at all. That is, where the communication comes in again. And from there it leads to trust. Play only then with a partner if you can be absolutely sure that you can trust him, if you can trust that he will respect your boundaries and your limits, if you can trust him that he does not mean any harm to you and if you can trust him that he knows what he is doing. Use your brain and your common sense before you get into a situation which you cannot handle anymore."

"What won't be a guarantee." Potter murmured and Snape nodded.

"No, it isn't." He said. "What is the reason why you should play with someone only then if you can be sure that you can trust this person blindly."

"But how can one be sure that he can trust?"

"You can be sure if you know the person long enough and good enough. You told me yesterday that you trust me, Mr. Potter. And you have given me a more than satisfying explanation as to why. But, answer me a question. Do you _know_ that you can trust me? Or do you _feel_ that you can trust me?"

"Uhm …" Potter made and he actually blinked in confusion at him. "I don't know, sir." He then answered. "I guess … I just know."

Snape nodded. "I feared as much. I hoped that you would be able to say both. That your knowledge told you that you could trust me, and that your feeling told you the same. Yet, I somehow knew that you would not feel it, because you do not allow yourself to recognize what you feel. As I already told you, you just have to allow yourself to feel. But as you never have done so, you actually have to learn this. You have to learn how to allow yourself to feel."

"I'm sorry, sir." The brat murmured and he shook his head, reminding himself again that he knew that the boy would be scared by him even more now before he would learn with time that there was no reason to fear him at all.

"I did not mean it as a criticism, brat." He growled. "I merely meant it as a fact."

The teenager nodded his acceptance and the teacher continued his explanations.

"Safe also means that it is necessary for the top to be able to identify a bottom's mental breakdown in order to avoid it or to comfort and calm the bottom as quickly and as efficiently as possible." He said, nearly chuckling at the eyes that grew larger than he had thought possible. "Such losses of emotional balance due to sensory or emotional overload are the most common BDSM emergencies. In other words, it is important to follow the bottom's reactions carefully and continue, change or stop therefore. You seem to be startled by this."

"Uhm … well … I didn't think about that being possible …" Potter murmured.

"Believe me, it is possible." Snape drawled. "And it is, as I already said, the most common emergency when it comes to BDSM. And here we come to trust, honesty and communication. A consent and pleasant situation can be granted only by people who are able to judge the potential consequences – and risks. And for their consent, they must have all relevant information such as the extent to which the scene will go, what safeword will be used, potential risks, disabilities or diseases, etc. at hand, and the necessary mental capacity to judge the scene, the person and the possible outcome of the situation."

"But, what if such things like disabilities or such are private?" Potter asked. "What if one would not want to give such information away?"

"Then you better keep your fingers off this person." Snape answered and his voice was severe. "You also can name it under the terms safe, sane and communication. It simply means that the bottom has to inform the top if he has some kind of physical limitations like for example low or high blood pressure, joint diseases, allergies or other disorders, or if there is something that surely would trigger bad memories. The top simply needs to know such things to keep the bottom safe. It is the responsibility of a top to keep the bottom – and himself – as safe and as sane as possible. What he only can do successfully if he knows about the diseases and the mental state of his bottom."

"Oh …" Potter made and Snape huffed at him. Of course Potter made 'oh'. The boy was a walking disease, worse than he himself after his youth and two wars during which he acted as a spy. Alone from what he had seen the past few days he knew the teenager suffered from an eating disorder, he was sure he suffered from a sleeping disorder as well, considering the tiredness the brat displayed, maybe caused by nightmares or such. From the occasional flinch, or the boy curling into a small ball whenever possible, or him being tense otherwise, he knew that he would have to face a panic attack at the first opportunity, and the general insecurities and fears the teen displayed told him that there was a lot more hidden underneath the surface.

Not a person he ever would have considered to play with, he noticed. Yet – it had happened, he was in a relationship with this teenage walking disease and he would have to deal with it as best as possible.

"Oh, indeed." Snape drawled, lifting his eyebrow at the teenager. "Just one simple example. Would you have told me of your left knee hurting you whenever you move in a wrong way? Or whenever you sit still for some time without stretching your leg?" He smirked at the dumbfound look the brat gave him and he lifted his eyebrow when he got no answer. "Of course you would not have. What maybe could have led to the result that perhaps I would have fixed you in the wrong way and maybe would have hurt you because I did not know about it had I not noticed it by myself."

Still Potter just blinked at him and Snape continued. "I only then am able to keep you safe if you tell me what troubles you suffer from. Not only _you_ have to be able to trust _me_ that I would keep you safe, but _I_ as well must be able to trust _you_ that you will tell me everything I _have_ to know so I actually _can_ keep you safe. Do you begin to understand what I mean?"

Potter still looked at him startled and Snape easily could see that the teenager was close to a panic attack. His hands had – yet again – become a complicated knot in his lap and he was sure that not even the boy would be able to unwind those fingers easily. His breathing was much quicker than it had been during their conversations the past days and the pale face held two eyes that were much too large with fear.

"You do not have to do so right now, Potter." He said to ease the boy momentarily. "I understand that you have problems addressing special things, a lot of things actually. But I do hope that given time you will learn doing so. And then I do hope that you will address me with what I need to know in order to keep you safe. Not to mention in order to help you in the first place."

Harry could only stare at his fingers that tried to hide between and beneath themselves. He knew that the Potions Professor was right. He had been behaving in ways that were frustrating, even to himself. He had made a fool out of himself during days now, stammering and stuttering and at some points giving no verbal answer at all.

Well, it wasn't that he was doing so on purpose. It just seemed that so many different thoughts and so many different feelings were coursing through him, and all of them seemed to be so … intense. And he wasn't even able to name them all. That was the worst part of it. He wasn't even able to describe them or to know what they meant.

Was Snape right? Was he unable to feel? Did this mean that he was an uncaring and cold bastard like they so often had Snape accused of? Did this mean that he wasn't … that he didn't …

And had Snape just said that he wanted to fix him? He swallowed dryly and tried to get his breathing back under control. There was no way he would allow Snape doing this. Absolutely no way!

Snape watched the boy with a thoughtful expression on his face.

The boy was startled and something he had said to him had made him upset beyond limits. He had already been upset earlier when he had told him of the safeword. Whatever reason for. One should think that a safeword would be something that he thought a safe subject to be – well, just safe. Even to discuss.

And whatever it was he just now had said, it seemed it had added to his earlier upset state and was now leading into a panic of some kind.

It surely was not the fact that he knew about his knee – or that he was a walking disease in the first place – nor that he had to tell him special things. He hadn't seemed so upset then. Upset yes, definitely. But not to this point where he barely was able to breath. Had he gotten his words wrong when he had said that he would have to be able to trust the boy as well as the boy should trust him? Had he taken his words as an accusation?

Possible, but – not what he really thought.

'_What maybe could have led to the result that perhaps I would have fixed you in the wrong way and maybe would have hurt you because I did not know about it had I not noticed it by myself.'_

Well, that sentence was more likely the one that could have upset him enough so he would get into a panic.

"I know that you told me you trust me, Harry." He said, hoping he was right with his assumption. "Yet – I know as well that you do not trust me enough yet so you would allow me to actually fix you. But believe me, I will not do so against your consent. It is a foreign topic to you and you will have to get used to it as well as I have to get used to having a relationship with a teenager with whom I actually have to be slow and careful. Until then, I am capable of restraining myself and to keep my hands off you, as you already stated that you know, I am not a man who rushes into things. I will wait until you are ready. And now come here and try to calm yourself, brat." He added, gripping the boy's shoulder and pulling him closer. He forced himself to ignore the boy's flinch and placed one hand onto the back of the teen's head, pulling the boy's head against his shoulder and placed the other arm around the teen's shoulder, pressing the smaller body against his own in what he hoped was a gesture of comfort, and he once again felt that it was right, that he was whole now, that there was back a part that had been missing.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_The Potions Master gives the student a token to show the teenager belonged to him … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	7. questions and answers

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

Well … I know that I promised you that Harry would get a token from Snape with which he showed that Harry belonged to him in this chapter. Hmpf … this has to wait until the next one, as – I admit, I messed up with this chapter here. I really am sorry, it just happened, it is not really my fault, blame my fingers that sometimes seems to have a mind of their own.

I really, really am sorry.

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_He gripped the boy's shoulder and pulled him closer. He forced himself to ignore the boy's flinch, placing one hand onto the back of the teen's head, pulling the boy's head against his shoulder and placing the other arm around the teen's shoulder, pressing the smaller body against his own in what he hoped was a gesture of comfort, and he once again felt that it was right, that he was whole now, that there was back a part that had been missing._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter seven **

**Questions and Answers**

"You are acting strange lately, Harry." Hermione said, leaning over the table to give her words a point.

"Yeah, mate." Ron agreed. "You really are acting strange."

"And why so?" Harry asked, blinking in confusion at his two friends.

"Well, you seem to avoid us lately." Hermione answered. "I mean, where are you in the evenings?"

"Yeah, mate." Ron nodded. "I wanted to go out with you."

"You only want to go out with Harry because you want to avoid me, Ronald." Hermione said in exasperation, turning towards Ron.

"Well, just because you always want to do things that are out of place." Ron said.

"Things out of place?" Hermione huffed. "Things out of place?"

"Well, yes … things out of place."

"Like what kind of things?" Hermione asked her boyfriend. "What kind of things are we talking about here, Ronald Weasley?"

"Well … like … like … _kissing_." The redhead boy shuddered at his own words.

"And what would be – out of place – with kissing? The entire school is kissing."

"Well, yes. But honestly, Hermione. We are not of age yet."

"And you think that all the other students who are kissing are of age?" Hermione's voice rose. "You think that it is wrong for a teenager to kiss? That is the lowest excuse I ever heard from you. Well, it is the _only_ excuse I ever heard from you."

"Well, even if. But we are not married yet."

"Oh, and the rest of the students here who are snogging in the corridors _are_ married?"

"Well … no … but …"

Sighing in exasperation Harry got to his feed and left the great hall. It was impossible to listen to those two bickering and fighting at every turn they took. He just was tired of it and he didn't want to listen anymore.

For a moment he thought they actually might care, the moment they had addressed him about his evenings, demanding to know where he had been, but then – well, then they had started their bickering – again – and he was forgotten – again. So what would be the purpose in keeping his seat as he wouldn't eat any breakfast anyway? He really could use his time better than that.

And honestly, right now he rather would use his time thinking over his relationship with Snape.

He really and honestly had a relationship with a teacher, and not with _any_ teacher, but with Snape, the one teacher that hated him the most.

Well, no. Snape didn't hate him, he had said so. Hadn't he?

But could one go from hate to not hate within one week? Was that even possible? And was such a thing possible for Snape? The one teacher who never showed anything but anger and annoyance? Even fury and rage sometimes? The one teacher that was known for his temper?

But Snape had said he didn't hate him. And Snape never had lied to him. So – maybe he really did not.

Sighing in frustration he shook his head. Never mind what, he just had better things to do than listening to their bickering and to their fighting. He didn't want them to fight.

Snape had said he should talk to them and if that wouldn't help, then he should show them with his actions that he didn't like how they treated him as the biggest hero ever. Well, he had meant their actions concerning handling him as the greatest hero ever, yes. But maybe it worked with their bickering as well. If he walked away from their constant bickering, then maybe they would realize that it was wrong of them to always have those fights. Eventually. Hopefully. Not to mention the fact that it annoyed him to no end. Really, they all had been friends at one point. But now Ron and Hermione seemed to be enemies and he didn't know what side to take.

Well, best no side at all.

Honestly. They both were just stupid. Ron with his medieval thinking and Hermione with being constantly needy.

'_What is the exact reason why it is important that you use your common sense and your gut feeling before you play with someone you do not know just because you are needy.'_

Why did he remember this particular one of Snape's sentences just now?

Well, because he had thought of Hermione being needy and Snape had said he shouldn't throw himself at the first best opportunity just because he was needy. That was how the brain worked, wasn't it? Someone says something to you, you read something and then someone speaks of something or you think of something that contains a word from the sentence you heard or read about and then you remember. It was easy to explain.

What didn't solve his problem with Ron and Hermione. He just wanted things to be back at normal.

But then again – if things were back to normal, then maybe he wouldn't be with Snape. Then Snape still would hate him. And if he had to be honest with himself, then he did not want this.

He didn't love Snape. Of course not. Snape was twenty years older than him. And Snape was his teacher, and a snarky and more than just strict teacher at that. Not to mention that Snape really wasn't such a good looking person with his old style robes that were closed up to under his chin, with his greasy hair and his cold demeanour.

But he could not deny that Snape had a voice that made him shiver and that his dark eyes made him nervous. Not to mention the fact that those old style and black robes that he always kept closed up to under his chin made him somehow – mysterious.

And - not to mention that he trusted Snape, and not to mention that Snape had said he cared about him. And wasn't that all he ever wanted? Someone who cared for him? It wasn't important that Snape never would love him. It was enough that he cared for him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had been watching Harry – yet again.

And yet again – the boy hadn't eaten. Well, ok. He never ate during breakfast. But honestly, this boy was just too thin and he couldn't afford missing any meals. He would have to set the boy on nutrient potions if he didn't gain any weight soon. But never mind them, each meal the boy could get was important - yet again Granger and Weasley seemed to have an argument and Harry had left, as it seemed annoyed at their bickering.

He didn't care Granger and Weasley bickering aside from the fact that it annoyed Harry. But what concerned him was that Harry left because of his friends fighting, and thus had Harry not eating regular meals. He really would have to talk with the boy. And maybe with Granger and Weasley too.

For a moment he wondered why Harry didn't eat correctly in the first place. He would have to ask him. Somehow he doubted that it was just an ordinary eating disorder like some of the teenage girls had, fearing for their figure. Somehow he knew there was more behind Harry missing meals.

Sighing and nearly shaking his head he let his gaze wander over the Slytherin table for a moment before he left the great hall and went down towards the dungeons and into the potions classroom to await the sixth year Slytherin and Gryffindor students. He had fifteen minutes left until they would enter and the class began.

He would grade the fifth year essays until then.

For another moment he thought about the fact that this would be the first class he had Harry in since they had a relationship. That in fact it was the first class he had Harry in since the boy had come down to his office to ask this question of him with which all this had started a week ago. And shortly he wondered how the boy would react. How _he_ would react, and he felt a twinge in his stomach.

He suddenly knew why students that were married or in a bond with a professor were to be taken out of classes.

Sighing in frustration he ran a hand over his face. He would not allow the boy to drop potions nor to be educated by anyone else than him. He was the best and he knew it. And even if Harry was a crap at Potions, he maybe could teach him to get the hang on it now that they got along better.

The brat's essays always had been fine after all. And his work with the knife was acceptable as well. He just seemed to mess up the potions always at some point between adding the ingredients, stirring and regulating the heat. So – maybe it had been just nerves because he always berated the boy during potions. Maybe now, that they got along, the boy wouldn't be nervous anymore.

On the other hand, well, no.

Already yesterday the thought that maybe the boy now would fear him just the more until he had learned that he wouldn't have to fear him had proven itself to be right. The boy really _did_ fear him even more than before, whatever reason for. It was just wrong. The junior partner in a relationship should never fear the senior partner, he should trust him. But Harry did. He did fear him now just the more than before. And that – added to his normal unsureness – well, he could count onto an exploding cauldron.

Before he actually had a chance to really start on grading the essays, the first student entered the classroom, interrupting his line of thoughts and as he looked up he saw it was the person occupying his mind for the past few minutes and thus hindering him working on the fifth year's essays. Harry.

He scowled at him in order to keep himself from smiling at the brat while he watched him enter the room, pausing in his steps for a moment before he flinched at his scowl and went towards the back of the classroom where he always sat, getting out his book, cauldron, parchment and quill while he looked up at him from time to time, unsurely.

He wanted nothing more than to go over to the brat and to assure him that all was fine and that he just couldn't show him anything else than a scowl in class. The other students surely would find it strange if he changed his behaviour towards the boy from one day to the other. But knowing that the rest of the students surely would enter soon too, he had no chance of doing as he wished. He would have to wait until after class. It would be easy to keep the boy after the lesson. Yet – he frowned.

While watching the teen from the head table, he had seen the boy was as pale as always. But when the boy walked past his desk he clearly could see that he looked even paler than normally and that he had dark circles underneath his eyes. Yes, he really would have to have a word with Harry, and soon. He didn't really like what he saw. The boy looked quite ill.

Just then the rest of the students filled in, one by one, a few Gryffindors, a few Slytherins, followed by a few Gryffindors more and finally the rest of the Slytherins and for a few minutes silent whisper and rustling was heard until the students all were seated and had their books, cauldrons, parchments and quills out.

Soon the classroom became silent and the Potions Master got to his feet and rounded the desk behind which he had been sitting, trying to once again concentrate onto the essays until the students had settled themselves. What happened quickly in his class as they all knew he wouldn't tolerate dawdling.

"Just like last week we will continue to cover the last three potions from fifth year." Snape began. "Just to ensure that even the imbeciles of you are capable of brewing them. Today's potion will be the burn paste before we continue with the more complicated healing potions like skele-gro in two weeks. The instructions are on the board and the ingredients are in the cupboard. You have an hour. Begin."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape sat in his private quarters, Harry sitting opposite him and he watched the boy close. Their first lesson since they had a relationship had not been as bad as he had feared in the first place. At least the boy had not exploded his cauldron. But still Harry looked unsure and still he was shy and silent, nearly fearful, just like he had been in the morning.

This morning in class he had been going back to grading while the students had prepared their potions, knowing that he had half an hour before they could mess with the boiling cauldrons at which point he would have had to be careful, but he had not been able to concentrate on the parchments that lay in front of him.

His eyes had been drawn every now and then towards the back of the classroom where Harry was brewing his potion, watching the boy before he remembered how important it was that they kept this secret for now.

He had too many Death Eater children in his house, in this very class and he couldn't afford them knowing of what was between Harry and him. The Dark Lord would be informed within the day and most likely not only _he_ was dead then but _Harry_ too. He wouldn't have to worry about Draco and not about Theodore either. But Crabbe and Goyle surely would send owls to their fathers as soon as they found out. He, Severus Snape, trusted follower of the evil bastard that was the Dark Lord being in a relationship with Harry Potter, worst enemy to said Dark Lord. It would be deadly to both of them.

So he simply had forced himself to look at each student to cover up his staring at Harry, at the same time figuring out who of the students had noticed him gazing at Harry. It had been easy, he wasn't a spy for nothing after all and he had been relieved when he had found out that none of them had noticed. Well, everything else had been just as easy.

Aside from the strange feeling of sadness when he again had watched Harry during the lesson.

**Flashback**

_He walked through the classroom, checking the sixth year's potions, ensuring that none of them melted or exploded their cauldrons and slowly he neared the back of the classroom. _

_He had watched Harry from behind his curtain of hair and even from the distance he easily noticed the boy's hands trembling while he handled the knife for cutting the ingredients. Even Longbottom handled his knife with more sureness than Harry did right now. So much for being able to teach the boy more while they got along now. Harry was nervous to no end, even he could see as much._

_Well, he had to admit that it was his own fault. He had berated and humiliated the boy in front of the class from the first day he'd had him in his classroom._

_So it was no wonder that the boy always sat in the back row, trying to blend in with the wall, trying to get as small and as invisible as possible, but honestly, Harry should know by now that he would not harm him, that he would not berate him anymore during lessons._

_But then – how should Harry know? It was the first lesson since __they had started this relationship, it was the first lesson since the boy had come down with his question about sex, since their regular conversations in the evening. The teen would have to learn that he wouldn't be hurt by him just as he had to learn that he had to be at least a bit sarcastic towards Harry Potter in front of the students. Even if he did not want to. Even if he truly wanted to somehow make it up to the boy for how he had handled him in the past._

_He came closer to Harry's cauldron and even before he completely reached him he noticed the boy stiffening and he sighed inwardly. The teen really feared him, he recognized. But he shouldn't fear him. Not anymore. If he just knew why in Merlin's name the boy feared him. He never had laid a hand on the boy - well, aside from that one night when Harry had seen his memories in the pensive. But otherwise _… _he just didn't understand._

_Noticing that Harry's potion was the correct shade and consistence he nodded._

_"I see, even you are able to brew a potion that we had covered last year__ without needing a third try, Potter." He said, trying to choose his words wisely and hoping that the brat would recognize the praise between the lines. "That definitely is an improvement and I am quite surprised."_

**End flashback**

He had seen a small smile on Harry's face then, knowing that the brat _had _understood his hidden praise, but just a moment later the smile had been replaced by his ever tense and fearful expression. Just like now. He really had to talk with the boy about other things than just sex.

Well, he hadn't intended talking with the boy about anything related to the question that had led him down here in the first place on Thursday last week anyway. He had a much more important question in his mind right now and he pointed towards the plate with scrambled eggs and toast he had placed in front of the boy earlier.

"Eat." He finally said, pointing at the plate at the table. "I want to ask you a question, Mr. Potter." He then said, piercing the teen with his dark eyes, inwardly smirking at the squirming the boy gave away until he reminded himself that he needed a calm teen and not a squirming one. Yet – it just was too much a pleasant sight the brat gave away when he squirmed.

"Yes, sir?" The boy asked, the fork in his hand but not eating, his eyes looking at him startled as if he feared something, whatever that something would be.

"Eat!" He repeated, more forcefully this time and Harry swallowed dryly before he nodded and lowered the fork towards the plate, playing with the food instead of eating it.

"You are back at Hogwarts since a week now, Mr. Potter." Snape finally began. "I have watched you from the very first day you came back after this summer break and I wonder how is it, that I never have seen you eating anything during breakfast, during lunch and how is it that I never have seen you eating more than half a slice of toast during dinner? Not even _eating_ said toast but _nibbling_ at it. And I want to know why that is so."

Harry swallowed thickly again and he couldn't help but placing the fork back on the table. How was he supposed to eat when he was about to get into trouble? And with Snape no less? He just couldn't eat with that thought in his mind.

How could he have been so damn stupid as to get into a relationship with a spy that had his eyes and his ears everywhere and was so damn observant? And how was it that Snape always noticed everything he tried to hide? He had seen him casting strange looks at him from time to time during the past week when he was down here, thoughtful looks, looks he regarded some of his potions ingredients with. And a few times he had feared the man might address something, might find out something, might demand answers somehow. But he hadn't, even if he was sure that the Potions Master had saved his questions – all for now as it seemed.

"Well." He slowly answered. "I'm not hungry? Sir?"

Snape lifted his eyebrow and huffed unbelievingly.

"Not hungry, really?" He growled darkly, causing Harry to shiver. "Again. I want to know the reason as to why you do not eat properly, and don't – lie – to me. This is much too serious. If I would believe you, then I had to think that you would be able to go without food for a week without being hungry."

"Something like that." Harry whispered under his breath.

"And you would know that because of?" Snape asked, having heard the comment quite well and Harry's eyes shot up at him, a shocked expression on his face. He had been sure that Snape wouldn't hear him, he had nothing but mumbled under his breath, it had been a whisper and nothing more.

"Uhm … dunno … nothing … sorry, sir." He stuttered, still blinking in shock. He really didn't want to speak about anything to do with his relatives or his summer holidays right now. He was back at Hogwarts for another ten month and he would have to face them soon enough at the end of this school year, hopefully for the last time at least. Even if Dumbledore had said something about his eighteenth birthday as he would be of age with seventeen only in the wizarding world and not in the muggle world and the headmaster didn't want to take any risks.

Snape watched Potter, his eyebrow lifted at the teenager and the boy squirmed under this judging gaze just the more. But this time the Potions Master didn't take pleasure in the boy's squirming. He had known there was more to that and he would go to the bottom of this riddle. He just _had_ to know in order to keep the boy safe.

"This is not _nothing_, Mr. Potter, and I do wish to know the reason to your eating habits – or your lack thereof." He growled, his gaze still piercing the boy in front of him. The brat had laid his fork aside but he really couldn't blame him for that, knowing how uncomfortable Potter felt, whatever reason for. He doubted that it was only the fact that he feared him right now. The boy tried to hide something from him, tried really hard to hide it.

"An answer, if you please, Mr. Potter." He growled.

"Well." Again the brat slowly began, clearly stalling for time. "I didn't have much time during the holidays. There had been a lot to do at my aunt and uncle's house. And somehow I forgot some meals. So I'm used to, you see?"

"Yes, I do see, Mr. Potter." Snape growled, not releasing the boy's eyes with his own black ones. "I see that you do not trust me and neither can I trust you as you do not intend telling me the truth."

Harry gaped at Snape. He had expected much, shouting, maybe the man grabbing and shaking him, maybe even beating him, but not those words. Was that Snape's way to get out of their relationship? Was that how he …

He wasn't able to breath, he wasn't even able to form correct sentences in his mind and he wasn't able to do anything. He had lost what he had gained, and so soon. He had wanted nothing more than someone who cared and Snape had said he _did _care. He could live with Snape not loving him, as long as he cared. But now he had lost it, and so soon.

Sighing a sigh in frustration Snape got up and shoving the plate with the untouched food aside he sat onto the edge of the table, reaching out and grabbing the boy's chin to lift up his head so he had to look at him. Only to have the boy flinching away and he had to suppress a growl that only would startle the brat more.

He didn't have to use legillimens in order to know what exactly Potter was thinking and feeling at the moment. It was written over the teen's face and in those damn startled green eyes in large red letters. The brat feared that he would back out of their relationship using his lack of trust as an excuse.

But why in Merlin's name was the boy so afraid to lose him? How was it that he – seemingly – was so important to the brat? And how was it that this brat at the same time flinched away from him and feared him whenever he moved the wrong way?

"Calm down, Harry, and breathe." He quietly ordered, keeping his voice as low and as calming as possible. Yet – the boy only opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and once more closed it just like a fish out of the water, seemingly unable to form words and the teen clenched his hands into fists with the pure frustration at his lack of articulation he felt.

"Easy, brat." He whispered darkly, knowing there it was, the first panic attack he had to deal with and he hadn't even suggested that he wanted to fix the brat to the bed. He gently ran his fingers over the boy's forehead, softly brushing against the teen's mind just in order to know how exactly Potter felt and with a sigh he withdraw after a few moments and pulled the boy closer until the teen stood between his legs and he could encircle the slight body with his arms.

"Calm down, Harry." He whispered. "Do you have so little trust in me that you really fear I would back out of this now? I have told you, I _do_ know what I get myself into and I _do mean_ what I say. I am a man who stands to his word. I do not want to know everything that ever happened in your life, Harry, but I do demand to know that what is important to me in order to keep you safe. And you do not even have to tell me all of this at once, but right now I just want to know why you are not eating more than you do at the moment. It is important as your health is at the risk. And never mind the answer, I won't throw you away because of it. And surely not with such a low excuse. But I demand an answer and I demand one now before it is too late and you harm yourself."

Slowly the brat's breathing had calmed a bit at his words and he at least seemed able to take breathes at all without either suffocating or hyperventilating. The small form he held just still trembled like a leave in the wind and he shook his head and ran his hand up and down the boy's thin spin, feeling each vertebra of his backbone, while his other rested on the back of the teen's neck.

Another few minutes later he experimentally shoved the boy back into the armchair he had been sitting in earlier and again he pierced him with his dark eyes.

"Feeling better?" He quietly asked.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered him, still pale, still shaking a bit and still the word fear written all over his forehead. "I'm sorry, sir."

"There is no need to be, brat." He said. "I won't throw you away, do you get this in this thick skull of yours now?"

"Yes, sir." Came the same answer again. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Stop this infuriating apologizing, Mr. Potter." He sighed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, not really knowing what to do with the boy.

"Yes, sir." Came, followed by a "Sorry, sir" and Snape had to keep himself from shouting out a loud "Potter" knowing that it wouldn't do any good right now. But honestly, this damn brat just apologized for apologizing! It was maddening, it was annoying and it was – just infuriating. How could one human be as insecure and as anxious as Potter was? No, for all of Merlin's pants, this boy was as far from being James Potter as was he from being Sirius Black.

"Don't – apologize!" He growled and he could see how the boy fought for just not doing this, apologizing again and he sighed.

"And now the truth, Harry." He said, again taking the teen's chin between his fingers and lifting his face. "I need and I demand the truth. Why is it that you go with half a slice of toast each day and nothing more?"

"I … I don't know how to explain." Harry murmured and Snape nodded.

"I, just for example, know that you never ate much here at Hogwarts." Snape helped out, releasing the boy's face. He knew that the teen wouldn't answer him while he had to look at him. "But never before have I noticed that you _just nibbled _at _dry toast_. So, why do you not simply start at what exactly you ate during the summer holidays while living with your relatives?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and his eyes were back at his hands that were - yet again - a strange tight knot.

"An answer, please, Mr. Potter." Snape said.

"Not much." The teen finally answered in his small voice.

"I already guessed so, Harry. But what did you eat _actually_?"

The boy bent forwards, as if folding himself into half and he finally unwind his fingers, just to slide his arms around his stomach as if to protect this part of his body – or as if to hug himself and Snape gritted his teeth at the sight.

"I don't know, sir. I'm … I'm just not used to much." Harry finally answered in a small voice. "I just don't eat much during the summer holidays."

"Why?" He asked and he had a guess. And he knew that his guess was a good one.

Again the boy shrugged and Snape took a deep breath. "An answer, Mr. Potter." He again demanded.

"Because I don't get more." The boy murmured.

Wouldn't it be for the small and hesitant words and the word '_get'_ itself, then Snape would have been angry, believing that Harry still lied to him, but somehow he knew that the boy didn't and he could feel his anger boiling. But it wasn't anger at the teenager that sat before him. It was anger at the boy's relatives. He had been right and inwardly he seethed with fury. He would have to pay a visit in Surrey, and soon.

"Why not?" He simply asked.

"Because … because during the day I don't have the time with all the chores they set and then they send me to my … to my room in the evening. I'm not allowed out until the next morning."

He wanted to ask more, he wanted to know more, but right now he knew that he shouldn't push his luck. The boy had revealed more than he wanted to and he didn't want to upset him more than he already was. But the anger he felt was nearly overwhelming. He had seen a few things during their occlumency lessons last year. And thus he of course knew that the boy had been living in a home where he was neither welcomed nor loved. But never would he have added neglect to the hatred he had seen in the boy's mind last year. But now – yes, every sign screamed that the boy had been neglected by his muggle relatives. Merlin only knew for how long. And it fit to the images he had seen during occlumency.

"Just one more question, Mr. Potter." He finally managed and he watched the boy swallowing nervously before he slowly nodded. "How much exactly is 'not much'? Or in other words, how often did you actually eat there? And what?"

This time it took Harry a few moments to answer his question and again he didn't look at him but at the floor.

"I don't know, sir." He finally managed to say. "Twice a week, maybe. I guess I lose track there somehow. And whatever I could get."

"Eat!" Snape seethed angrily, getting up from the table he had been sitting on and shoving the plate into the boy's shaking hands. "I do not care if you manage it all, but eat!"

He just had to leave for a moment before he exploded in front of the boy and he went into his laboratory, closed the door and cast a silencing charm onto the room before he grabbed the next best vial and threw the small glass container against the wall opposite, not quite satisfied with the shattering when the vial collided with the stony wall and broke.

"How dare they!" He roared to no one in particular as he knew there was no one aside of himself, just knowing that he had to vent off his anger before he went back to the boy, scaring him more than he already was. So, grabbing another vial that accompanied the first one, first on the wall and then on the floor, was one way to get rid of his anger. A third one followed suit.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

When he came back he was calm again and he sat into his usual armchair and just one glance at Harry was enough to know that the brat had another apology on his tongue.

"Do not even think of apologizing, Potter." He growled darkly. "You do not have to apologize for being neglected. I do not want you to apologize for things that are not your fault. And being neglect by your relatives definitely _is not_ your fault."

He waited until he got a nod from the teenager that still found the carpet covering the stony floor interesting before he continued.

"And now listen close to me. First, I do thank you for telling me, even if you did so reluctantly. Such things are important and I can assure you, we will talk about this more. But not now. Right now, I want you to eat. I expect you to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner each day, and believe me, I will know if you miss just one single meal. I do not care how much you eat during those meals the next few days as long as you do eat _anything_ at all. I am not sure if you know _how _serious this is, but seeing as you have lived with that wretched muggles your entire life, I guess you do not know because you are – used to it. But believe me, this _is _serious and it will end here and now."

Harry looked at the older wizard with startled eyes and Snape nodded before he sighed and pulled a vial out of his robes, undid the stopper and reached it towards the teenager who – yet again flinched at the sudden movement he made. "Drink this, Harry." He said, his voice still severe but more like the Snape from the past few days. "It is a nutrient potion. And yes, it is important that you drink it. I will supply you with this one each evening when you come down here after dinner for your – let me name it – remedial potions, to give you a cover."

Snape pierced Harry with his dark eyes, trying hard to ignore the flinch the boy had given away yet again when he had extended his hand with the potion and he just knew that there was more to it. Inwardly he cursed. This happened just now. Just now while Harry was about to adjust to their relationship, where he had known that Harry would fear him just the more before he would get used to him and his fear would dissipate.

He ran a hand over his face in frustration.

"I'm sorry, sir." The boy murmured upon sensing his anger and Snape guessed the boy thought better safe than sorry.

"I am angry, yes, but I am not angry at you, Harry. I am angry at the sad excuses for your relatives who did not take proper care of a child that had been entrusted to them. But I am not angry at _you_. You do not have to fear me, Harry." He said, his voice low and sad now. "And I guess you do know this. I guess in this particular situation you would fear everyone and thus I do not feel offended. Nevertheless, I do not want you to fear me in the first place and I guess you do know this as well. You just react in the only way you are capable of right now."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

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**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Well … that what actually had been planned in this chapter … Snape demanding Harry as his own …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	8. you are mine

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask:**

_"I am angry, yes, but I am not angry at you, Harry. I am angry at the sad excuses for your relatives who did not take proper care of a child that had been entrusted to them. But I am not angry at you. You do not have to fear me, Harry." He said, his voice low and sad now. "And I guess you do know this. I guess in this particular situation you would fear everyone and thus I do not feel offended. Nevertheless, I do not want you to fear me in the first place and I guess you do know this as well. You just react in the only way you are capable of right now."_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter eight **

**You are mine**

It was Thursday evening and Snape thought he wouldn't survive the next day until it finally was weekend. The first years were about to drive him mad and he knew that it would take at least a month more until they had settled into the routine of the old castle. The seventh year Hufflepuffs were up to something, he knew it by just looking at them, and the Gryffindors were driving him up the walls, just as always. At least Harry tried to make an effort – even if without success. But he could see it in the way the boy acted. He tried to concentrate, and the look of half-heartiness was replaced by a look of desperate determination.

If the boy just would be able to get a grip at his nerves in potions around him, but – no – he was as jumpy as never before.

Well, and then – there was the fact that he was behind his normal amount of brewed potions, antidotes for the potions he had his students brewing during lessons and potions for the infirmary.

He normally brewed in the evening hours that just now were occupied by the teenager that he currently had visiting him – as every evening since the first day of school after the summer break.

"Follow me." He shortly said, leading the boy towards the small kitchen that was attached to his chambers and where Zilly, his house elf, already had brought out a small dinner on his orders. Again the brat had not eaten more than half a slice of dry toast during dinner and honestly, he had known he would not eat more.

"Sit." He said and took his own place at the table.

The boy had a look of pure shock on his face when he looked at the plate in front of him and Snape clearly could see the panicky look in his eyes. Well, he had to admit that Zilly apparently had thought the boy needed a lot to eat and he had to admit that Potter surely would not be able to finish what Zilly had served him.

Harry seated himself opposite of Snape. He looked at the plate in front of him in pure shock, and nerves overtook him. There was no way he was going to be able to eat all this, but to leave any on his plate would just be impolite. And a waste of food, as uncle Vernon always had told him. Yet - it was a waste of food if it was given to him anyway, so he was not really sure what would be the difference.

Sensing Harry's unease and knowing that the boy wouldn't be able to stomach all that Zilly had prepared on the teenager's plate, not if he considered the boy's eating habits at least, Snape sighed.

"You do not have to finish all of this." He said to ease Potter's fears.

Harry nodded and took the fork that was placed besides his plate, beginning to shove the vegetables from one side of the plate to the other. He wasn't really sure if he would be able to eat anything of it without throwing up and that was something he really, really didn't want to do. And surely not in front of Snape.

The man in question silently placed a vial in front of him and Harry looked up with a curious expression on his face. What was this for? Surely Snape wouldn't poison him? Maybe he still was angry at him because of … he shuddered for a moment.

"A stomach calming potion, Harry." Snape said upon seeing the boy's nearly fearful gaze. He'd had a scathing remark on his tongue but gulped it down. It surely would not help things right now. He wanted to help the brat and he wouldn't achieve this if he ridiculed the boy with his sarcasm. "I am sure you are hungry, Harry, and do me the favour and do not deny it. I know that you are. You just fear that you would not stomach anything else than – _dry toast_. Am I correct?"

No answer came, but the Potions Master had known that none would come and he would not press for an answer right now. The boy had to eat.

"Drink the potion, Harry, and then eat." He simply said.

Harry obeyed and after another moment of hesitation he extended his hand and took the potion, knowing that it would be a great thing if he actually would be able to stomach more than – well, as Snape had said with his sarcastic voice – _dry toast_ without getting uncomfortable and feeling ill to the stomach. He opened the vial and then downed its contents, grimacing at the taste. Yet – it was not as bad as other potions Madam Pomfrey had given him throughout the years. He didn't feel sick at least after that one.

"Uhm, Professor?" He asked, just to get his mind off the food in front of him and to play for time. He still feared actually eating some of it in front of the man. And he feared the Professor's next questions he might ask.

Snape on the other hand - had to suppress a wince at the title Potter addressed him with.

"I would prefer it if you addressed me with my given name, as long as we are in privacy, Harry." He said. "It is quite unnerving if you call me – _Professor._"

"Uhm …" The teenager made, blinking in near shock at him and Snape had to suppress a low chuckle. "You're sure about this, sir?" The teen asked, nearly startled.

"Would I have suggested it otherwise?" The Potions Master drawled. "Of course I am sure about it. Or would you prefer me continuing calling you Potter?"

"Urgh. No, sir, surely not." The boy said, shuddering.

"You see the point?" Snape lifted his eyebrow at the younger wizard.

"Yes, sir." Came instead of 'yes, Severus' and the man gave him one of his long, judging looks that Harry was getting used to by now but still didn't know what they meant. Aside from the fact that they made him nervous.

"Now, what was it you wanted to ask?" The Potions Master wanted to know and Harry sighed placing the fork aside.

"Well …" He began. "I wondered if there were pairs – concerning … BDSM - that were neither top nor bottom." He asked. "Not permanently at least."

"That is possible." Snape answered, momentarily wondering where the boy had taken the confidence from to ask a question about BDSM by himself. "Those pairs are called switches and the same rules go for them as those for permanent tops and bottoms." Maybe the boy feared other questions he might ask right now enough to try and distract him by asking …

Well, most likely. Sighing he decided to allow it – for once at least.

"And they change just like that?"

"Well, normally in BDSM terminology the partner who has the active or controlling role in a session is described as the top, a role that often involves inflicting pain, degradation or subjection. The partner who has the passive or submissive role in said session is described as the bottom, a role that mostly exposes himself willingly to those actions the top displays. Often the roles are permanent. But sometimes the practitioners may play either or both roles, top or bottom, depending on the actual session's setting. They can switch in a daily route, or in a weekly route. They may even switch during the current setting. Eat!"

The teenager took the fork again and again began to shove the vegetables over his plate. To the side they originally had been placed at.

"Eat, Harry!" Snape growled darkly and the brat really scooped some of the vegetables into his mouth – after he jumped.

"Although the top usually is the dominant and the bottom the submissive partner, it is not inevitably so." Snape then continued when Harry had begun to finally eat. "In some cases the top follows instructions to the bottom's desires and in a way the bottom expressly requires. A top only having apparent control, while he in reality is conforming the instructions given by the bottom, is labelled as a _service top_. Contrasting with the service top is the _dominant top_, which controls his submissive partner by using physical or psychological techniques during the session."

Potter blinked at him in irritation and Snape lowered his head to one side questioningly, lifting one eyebrow at the teenager.

"Well …" The boy asked. "That means … there are bottoms that try to manipulate the top?"

"That is correct." Snape inclined his head. "Even if such is not really preferred in the BDSM subculture. The more common way would be that the bottom mostly may be the partner who specifies the basic conditions of the session, directly or indirectly, in the prelude to the session, while the top mostly respects this guidance to ensure that both partners will enjoy the game and takes over in fine tuning the scene during the play. Such is an acceptable situation for every participant as both agree together on the situation. Sometimes." The older wizard added with an evil glint in his eyes.

"Sometimes?" The brat asked swallowing heavily and again the fork lay beneath the plate.

"Eat!" Snape growled. "Yes, sometimes. Normally both, top and bottom, are planning the setting together so both can enjoy the situation completely. The bottom specifies the basic conditions and the top defines the finer outlines. But sometimes, sometimes the top might surprise his bottom with a setting, if they know each other well enough and if the top is familiar with the preference of his bottom. A good top rarely would surprise his bottom with a setting of which he knows would upset his submissive, would sent him into a panic, harm him or similar."

Potter gulped heavily, watching Snape with large eyes and the Potions Master had – yet again – to suppress a chuckle.

"Other bottoms try to control their top by provoking reactions or misbehaving to attract interest. Normally the top – if it is a good top – does not respond to those provocations as a top would feel his dominance undermined by the bottom in this case."

"And …" The teenager began. "What kind of top are _you_?"

Snape smirked at him with an evil glint in his dark eyes.

"Eat." He simply said.

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Well, Harry _had _eaten. Not all, but much more than he had eaten in a long time anyway and when Snape finally had been satisfied he had felt nearly ill despite the stomach calming potion. Snape then had led Harry out of the small kitchen and into the larger living area where they now sat together in front of the warming fire.

"There is one thing, Mr. Potter, which I wish to complete today." Snape said, his voice startling him out of his thoughts, sounding serious suddenly and Harry shivered, looking up at the man with unsure eyes. He couldn't help it, he felt fear creeping up his stomach and settling onto his chest. And it must have shown on his face because Snape suddenly chuckled darkly, startling Harry even more.

"Merlin save me from teenage boys." The Potions Master murmured, shaking his head. "Come here!" He then said, his voice significantly commanding now and his dark eyes were piercing the teenager.

Harry swallowed thickly and for a moment he had to catch his breath before he got a grip on himself and stood, his body obeying nearly automatically as his feet carried him forward until he stood in front of Snape's armchair.

"Kneel!" Snape said, his voice as commanding as before but with a slightly pleased note in it.

Swallowing again nervously Harry once more obeyed, kneeling unsurely in front of the Potions Master and despite the fear that suddenly cursed through him, some of his blood seemed to settle lower in his anatomy while he began to tremble under the intense gaze of those dark eyes that watched him.

For long few minutes nothing happened besides of Snape watching the teenager kneeling in front of him, radiating fear with every string of his tense and trembling body and the Potions Master seemed to search for something in the boy's questioning and unsure green eyes that watched him in the same searching way.

Then Snape slowly lifted his hand and placed it on top of the always unruly black hair, recognizing but ignoring the slight flinch the boy gave away, the fear that deepened in those green eyes for a moment. It just was another information he would store away for another time. Gently he carded his fingers through the teenager's hair, feeling the soft texture beneath his fingers, between his fingers, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of him, noticing that the brat allowed his body to relax slowly and slightly, distracted from his fears by his gentle fingers running through his hair.

"Never assume that I do anything but top." He said, his voice deep, nearly deeper as it normal was and Harry wasn't able to prevent himself from swallowing nervously. "And never assume that I do anything else but the dominate top." He added, his dark eyes still boring into the green ones of the boy, keeping the younger wizard's gaze captured with his own.

"Do you truly understand what you are getting yourself into, Harry?" He asked after a few more moments, not sure if he wanted to hear the boy's answer.

"Yes, sir." Potter simply answered, his voice still unsure, as were his eyes, but nevertheless Snape somehow knew that he boy was not unsure about himself but unsure about the older man, about Snape, about how _he_ might feel, if _he_ still wanted him.

"What exactly is it you get yourself into?" He asked.

And just in this moment it was like seeing the boy for the first time. He had never noticed just how often or how unintentionally Harry bit his lower lip. Or the way his black eyelashes lowered as he lowered his gaze, considering his answer. The way those green eyes seemed to search in his face, in his own eyes and in his entire posture whenever Harry lifted his eyes to meet his own, unsurely, questioningly, and nearly frightened, robbing the Potions Master of his breath.

"It … it is a relationship in which you are the top and I am the … the … the bottom." The teenager finally answered, his voice low and quiet, as unsure and as close to being frightened as were his eyes. "It is limited to only during … during … during sex … but you will have control then over … over me. It is consensual because … because I give it to you freely. And you will … you will … you will not hurt me, but you will … you will … punish me … if … if I am disobedient. It is … it is … pain … involved and … and … and fear … but you will … you will care for me and keep me safe … you will … you will not … you will not hurt me …?"

Snape had to fight hard to not let his emotions show on his face at the fear and yet bravery the teenager showed in this very moment. He had not expected such a clear answer. The words clearly showed the fear and the unsureness Harry felt and the green eyes still watched him searchingly, questioningly. And the last few words clearly had not been a statement but a question and the searching gaze had changed into a nearly pleading one. He stilled his hand that had been carding through the teen's hair but he did not pull it away, kept the physical contact.

"That is correct, Harry." Snape said, his low voice velvet and deep, calming, reassuring. "I _do _care for you. I will keep you safe and I will not harm you. All I expect from you is your trust, your honesty and your loyally. I won't be gentle with you, but I also won't be cruel. And I will handle you with understanding."

Snape's fingers continued to card through the black hair, calming the teenager in front of him further.

"Are you still sure that this is what you want, Harry?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." The boy answered. "Yes, I do want this."

Snape slightly nodded. "Stay!" He then ordered.

Snape's hand pulled away as he stood and immediately Harry felt the fear coming back, settling with all might within his stomach and he had to grit his teeth in order to prevent a small sob. He had to look at his fingers that again were curled into a knot in his lap, just in order to being able to concentrate onto his breathing.

He had felt safe in Snape's presence. He had felt safe with Snape touching him. He couldn't explain it, he just had felt safe.

Only moments later dark eyes fixed on Harry's face and they softened slightly before Snape glided over to his brat and sat back down into the armchair, noticing the trembling that had come back while he was away, the trembling that lessened when he placed his fingers under Potter's chin to get the teenager to look back at him. The green eyes that met his dark ones held fear once again.

"Turn!" Snape said, and even if his voice was low it clearly was a command again.

Harry turned after casting one last unsure look into Snape's eyes, his fingers automatically tightening in this complicated knot he held in his lap when he had his back on the Potions Master.

Snape easily recognized the tensing of Potter's shoulders when the teen had his back on him and he placed a reassuring hand on the tense shoulder before he reached in front of the brat and placed a small pendant on a leather strip around the boy's neck, fastening the strip on the back of the slender neck.

It was a simple small silver snake that was curled in itself, just similar as Harry always curled in on himself, and thus forming an O that hang on the leather strip and for some strange reason Harry's body relaxed slightly as the fastenings slid in place and the pendant hang over the crop of his throat. The necklace fit perfectly around his neck and his throat, making him recognize every gulp he did, but not choking him.

"This is the sign to everyone that you are no longer free to be claimed." Snape quietly said, placing both of his hands onto the teenager's shoulders and turning him until he was facing him again. "Within the wizarding community everyone now will know that you are owned by a master. And no one will touch you. You are mine now. And I will allow no one touching you." He softly said, gazing intently into the boy's eyes.

"Furthermore, with this token you have given yourself into my hands willingly." He continued his explanation. "What means that I not only am in responsibility for you, your safety and your well being, but that you cannot hide or keep yourself from me either. With this pendant I always will know where you are, if you are in danger and even what you are feeling as long as you are allowing my presence to feel yours. I also can call you through this pendant. It won't hurt you if you do not answer my call as is the dark mark the Death Eaters wear. It is up to your own choice if you wish to or if you are able to answer my call at the present time. It only will show you that I require your presence, nothing more."

Harry gulped nervously. That sounded as if Snape now really would be in control of him. Snape would know where he was, always as it seemed. And he would know what he felt, though not always if he had gotten that correctly. He wasn't sure if this was a good thing. He never had liked other people to know what exactly he felt. But now Snape would know. And Snape could call him, even if he could chose to answer the call or not. Would Snape punish him if he didn't answer? If Snape wanted, then he could control him now completely.

Snape even could call him if he was in classes, knowing that he would not be able to answer the call. And later on he could punish him for not heeding down to the man, or even for not being quickly enough. And as Snape would know what he felt, he could punish him with what he feared the most, or with what would bring the worst pain onto him. Never mind how miserable Snape had made his life in the past, he now could make his life _really _miserable if he wanted to.

But then - had Snape not demanded his trust? Yes, he could make his life miserable beyond imagination. But he simply would have to trust the man that he would not do so. It surely was easier said than done, but he would have to. So he swallowed nervously, trembling, but nevertheless nodded at the Potions Master.

"Good." Snape said, noticing the hesitance in the teen's appearance, the fear that crossed his face and he even imagined feeling a slight panic coming from the pendant and settling in the ring he now wore on the forefinger of his left hand. It was too early for him to feel this, wasn't it? Softly he ran his left thumb over the silver ring that was formed in a snake just like the pendant Harry now wore around his neck and he really felt the emotion settle in his ring. Well, that definitely was interesting, he thought. Was their relationship already formed that deeply?

"Those things won't happen right now." He finally continued. "Not entirely at least, but they will grow throughout the next few hours, maybe a few days as our relationship grows stronger and stabilizes itself. I guess that they will be in place completely within this week at the latest. One last thing though. You won't be able to take the pendant off by your own. If you wish to end this relationship, then you will have to address me with it and I will take it off. That way it is ensured that the junior partner won't simply run off and leave the senior partner behind without even his knowledge. With this pendant, you truly are mine now."

Snape stood, pulling the brat, _his brat_, with him and gazing intently into the still unsure eyes of the teenager that stood in front of him. "As long as you wish to remain in this place." He added before wrapping his arms around _his boy's_ slender waist.

The teenager he held in his arms only could nod, not able to vocalize anything right now, but he didn't have to either. Snape understood and his eyes travelled possessively over the boy's frame. _'He's mine!' _He growled in his mind. _'I won't let anyone else touch him.'_

The grip Snape had on him was gentle but firm and Harry found that he was enjoying it. The steady and strong beating of Snape's heart, the arms that curled around him with a pressure that made him feel safe but didn't hurt him, the fingers that touched his back that made him feel at ease, and he relaxed further in the man's arms. It would be alright.

This pendant, it was like a testimony of him belonging to Snape, belonging to _anyone_, of anyone actually _wanting _him, and the fact that Snape wanted to take care of him. It was nearly too much and Harry choked back a sob. Nobody had ever done something like this for him.

The Potions Master's breathing had slowed down considerably when he himself relaxed and Harry just couldn't help but giving a small sigh away. He was not even a bit uncomfortable with the sudden possessiveness in Snape's demeanour and slowly he lifted his right hand and lightly touched the older wizard's chest.

It was a movement, a touch as unsure and as hesitant, as questioningly and as frightened as was everything else the boy displayed, as were his eyes, as was his voice, and again it made Snape catch his breath in his throat. There was absolutely nothing sensual about the way Harry placed his fingertips on his chest but the fearful trust was clear in the action and Severus' hand came to rest on the back of Harry's head, pressing his brat close as he continued to try and get his own emotions back under control.

He had felt the desperate fear coming from the boy, the slight panic, the unsureness. Yet he also had felt the trust the boy forced himeslf to feel followed by something akin to overwhelming happiness and he gently carded his fingers through the unruly hair, again wondering how this all had happened.

At first he had hated Harry throughout years. Then he had given the student the talk. After this it had changed into a discussion about BDSM and they had managed to get along during a civil conversation. He had become to see more of Harry's other side, of his true side, not of the mask he always had worn throughout the years. They had started a relationship, not even out of love. The boy had searched for someone to teach him and he, Snape, had searched someone whom he could hand his knowledge down. It had been a logical decision, nothing else and nothing more. And now?

Now his fingers trembled when he thought about Harry being neglected for years, while he tried not to think about what else those wretched and abominable muggles might have done. Now his chest ached while he mentally made a diet plan for the brat, while he mentally set an appointment to visit Surrey and while he mentally wondered how to proceed with the boy that had become more important to him than his own life.

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He was sitting at the sofa while the boy was laying, his head resting in his lap, his hand gently carding through the boy's hair he always had associated with James Potter's, he now found was soothingly soft, and Snape noticed that Harry's breathing had become slow and regular and looking down at him he saw that the teenager had fallen asleep. Carefully he moved his sitting position in order to examine the brat's sleeping face closer. It was relaxed now, dark eyelashes standing up against the pale skin of the bony cheeks, the lips slightly parted.

'_The sleep of a child.'_ He thought. _'He really looks like a mere boy when he sleeps.'_

And yet – this boy, his brat, had been starved and neglected by his relatives, over years, and to an extent that he knew Harry had an eating disorder he most likely never would really overcome. To an extent where the boy's body was a mere shadow of itself, the weight of the boy's upper body resting on his lap much too little. To an extent where the boy's body trembled even now with coldness, even if the body warmth he, Snape, radiated and with the warmth of the crackling fire that was lit beside them. And to an extent where the boy was tired beyond his limit, his body not able to keep awake for longer than a few hours in a row.

He had watched the boy long enough now and he knew the boy was tired in the later morning hours, even after a nights sleep. He also knew that the boy looked as if he had crawled out of bed before his afternoon lessons and he looked the same when he came down into the great hall for dinner. He knew that the boy was sleeping before his afternoon lessons and before dinner. And nevertheless he was tired in the evening hours again.

While he covered the small body with the blanket he took from the backrest, he knew that he would have to talk with the boy further. It wasn't just that he could give him nutrition potions and watch his eating habits until Harry had gained an acceptable weight. And it wasn't just that he could see to the boy's sleeping patterns. He would have to care for the teenager's soul too.

Summoning the book he had started reading the day before he leaned back at the backrest of the sofa, one hand still laying on the boy's shoulder and he began to read, casting a worried glance down at the sleeping form every now and then and his thoughts drifted to the question why he had not seen the signs earlier. It wasn't quite like him to oversee such signs. He saw them with his Slytherins every so often. Too often. And now he had Harry here, in the very same place. And this time he felt like suffocating.

He couldn't deny it any longer.

He did not just want to own the brat as his because the boy was handsome and small and would be perfect as his submissive. He did not just want to own the brat as his because he wanted to hand down his knowledge to him. And he did not just want to own the brat as his because the boy was so willing to accept him, mean and snarky and old dungeons bat who was cold and dark.

No. He cared for the boy, he ached for him and he –

Yes. He loved him.

Maybe, he growled to himself.

As strange and as foreign it sounded to him and as much as he would like to deny it – but, if he had to be honest with himself, then he had to admit, he simply loved him.

Maybe, he again growled at himself.

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As Harry entered the Gryffindor common room later that night, shortly before curfew, Ron looked up at him, as did Hermione and both asked him where he had been.

For a moment he felt the familiar panic rising into his chest, into his throat. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not thought about the two of them being still awake? They surely would see the pendant and then they would question it. And surely at least Ron would know what it was. Ron came from a pure blood wizarding family after all, and those pure blood wizards all were well educated when it came to wizarding etiquette, tradition, and such things. He immediately would know what it was and what it meant.

And then they soon would figure out who it was he was with. They just had to cross out each girl first, then each student and soon there would be only a teacher left. And from there – well, it wouldn't be impossible to find out about Snape.

And surely it was forbidden to have a relationship with his teacher? Surely he would be expelled and Snape would be sacked if it became known? Maybe even would end up in Azkaban? They surely should keep it hidden as long as possible?

But on the other hand – Snape never had touched him. Well, aside from that one time a few days earlier. But otherwise he hadn't touched him now. He hadn't even kissed him yet. Not that he did mind. But it was strange. Snape was an adult man. And adults wanted more than just _talking _about sex. They wanted to _have _sex. So – why hadn't Snape touched him yet?

Maybe he too thought he was ugly, too skinny, too short - scrawny. A scrawny little freak. And he was a stuttering fool too. An absolute crap at potions. And a murderer. A sixteen year old that had killed five people. Not to mention that he was pathetic and weak. So – what in Merlin's name did Snape want with him? Why in Merlin's name did Snape care? And why was the man so kind to him? It was more than just a bit unnerving.

"Now, where _have_ you been?" Ron asked. "There's not one evening since we're back that you've been here, Harry."

"Well, maybe I don't want to be here with you two bickering and fighting all the time, Ron." Harry said, still hoping that none of them would come to the right conclusion upon seeing the pendant he wore. But at the same time, he had to admit that it was a calming feeling that they _could _see that he belonged to someone, even if he didn't know the reason as to why Snape had claimed him as his. Yet – he couldn't help feeling proud a bit.

He was no longer alone. He belonged to someone.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I do nothing than try to convince Ron that there is more to being together with someone than just stating it."

"Exactly, Hermione." Harry growled darkly. "You want more from Ron, because you are needy, but Ron isn't ready for more yet. And you are not ready to wait. And you, Ron, you act as if kissing Hermione would get her pregnant. Did you know that there is a preservation spell? It is _securus incestus_. And you can use it before you kiss her if that's what you fear."

Ron gasped at him in near shock and Hermione narrowed his eyes at him.

"Since when do you know about such spells, Harry?" The girl asked him curiously.

"Not only _you _are able to gain knowledge, Hermione." Harry rolled his eyes and let himself fall into one of the armchairs, despite the tiredness he felt. "I have read about it."

"Why would you read about something like … like _that_?" Ron still gasped at him in shock.

"Why ever not, Ron?" Harry furrowed his brows. "Do you really think that you would die when you kissed Hermione? Are you so stupid, Ron? What's wrong with the two of you?"

"Nothing." Ron said, blinking in shock at him.

"Did you just say I'm needy?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.

"Yes, I did say you're needy, Hermione. And you Ron, you're just stupid. And I won't have it any more. Your constant bickering and fighting is enough and you either stop it, or you won't see me much in here any time soon."

"But we don't fight with _you_." Ron said.

"No, but you two have been friends at one time." Harry growled. "And now you do nothing but fighting – over a kiss, damn! It's unnerving and I don't like it. Why should I be here if you do nothing but fight?"

"Uhm … Harry … what's wrong with you, mate?"

"Absolutely nothing is wrong with me, Ron. It's you who is acting strange. You two. And I really have better things to do than listening to you two bickering at each other."

"Harry?" Hermione asked, looking at him curiously. "What's that around your neck? I didn't see it when you left the common room earlier."

"That's absolutely unimportant now." Harry glared at her. "The only important thing right now is that you two stop fighting. You two really have been friends at one point. And I want you to be friends again. Because I want us all being friends again."

Ron didn't hear his words. He stared at the pendant he wore. He hadn't seen it before, but now that Hermione had pointed towards the necklace – now he saw it, and now he seemed to recognize it.

"You're gay?" He asked incredulously, his voice silent, as if in shock.

"So what, Ron?" Harry asked back. "At least I'm ready to have a relationship without denying my partner a kiss."

"Then it's true, Harry?" Hermione wanted to know. "You're really gay? And you have someone?"

"Of course he has." Ron answered his girl-friend. "And it's a he. A he that is a pure blood. And it's not just that. That pendant shows that he has claimed Harry as his own. It's … it's … it's just _disgusting_."

"What is disgusting is your bickering, Ron!" Harry got to his feet and glared at the redhead. "So what? At least I'm not in a relationship only because it _is_ a relationship. My partner cares, we don't fight and he neither tries to force something upon me just because he's needy nor denies me something I want."

"I'm not needy!" Hermione said with an angry voice.

"But you act as if you were." Harry turned towards her.

"I'm not. And I'm not needy!" With a huff she turned and left the common room, went upstairs to the sixth year girl's dormitory, leaving the two boys to their argument.

"Just stop it, it's really revolting. I won't hear anything about it." Ron shuddered. "I don't even have to ask who it is."

"I won't tell you anyway." Harry growled. "As you are so disgusted at the idea."

"It can only be a Slytherin." Ron spat. "They're gay, pure blood, ready to claim a person as their own, and ready to partake in such a kind of relationship."

"So, what kind of relationship is it we're speaking of, Ron?" Harry asked. "You aren't even able to name it. So just shut up and don't you dare to judge anything I do or do not do."

"How could you!" Ron too stood now. "How could you allow anyone claiming you as a property! And how could you allow anyone to … to … to shag you … _there_. And how could you allow anyone to hurt you like that. You're disgusting!"

"At least I do not have to fight against my own partner. He cares about me and he makes me happy!"

"You're … you're sick! You don't even deny it's a Slytherin."

"So what? What's your problem?"

"You're my problem." Ron shouted. "I can't believe I shared a dorm with a gay. I can't believe I've been friends with the lover of a Slytherin. Who is it? Malfoy? Crabbe? Goyle?"

"You have no idea!" Harry shouted back. Ron really was so stupid. "And it's none of your business anyway. If you would care, then you would be happy that I am happy."

"Happy? About my friend being gay, and with a Slytherin? In such a relationship? Does he beat you? And rape you?"

Harry saw red now. How dare Ron? Snape had done nothing to him. And he even had promised that they wouldn't have to practice BDSM if he didn't want to. Ron knew nothing!

"How dare you!" He growled. "You say we are friends. How dare you!"

"We surely are not friends." Ron seethed. "And if I had known … that … then I …"

"Fine!" Harry turned towards the portrait hole. "Then we are not. I don't care."

"Don't turn your back on me!" Ron screamed and grabbed Harry's arm, turned the other teenager back towards him while at the same time his fist met Harry's face.

"That's what you want anyway, isn't it?" He screamed, while his fist again made contact with the dark haired boy. "To be beaten by a male. To be hurt and to be beaten, to be kicked and to be whipped. To be bound and to be raped. That's what you want. Are you getting hard now, you freak? Does this feel good?"

With each accusation and with each question Ron continued to beat and kick at Harry who now lay at the ground, not even thinking at fighting back, not even trying to get away and only curling into an as small ball as possible, hoping to protect himself as good as possible. He didn't really understand Ron's problem but right now he didn't care either. Right now he just wanted it over. Yet – he didn't know what to do then.

It was clear he could not stay in his dorm, maybe not even in the common room. But where would he go instead? He wouldn't have a place to stay, really.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Hiding and first touches … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	9. to shock a Potions Master

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_He didn't really understand Ron's problem but right now he didn't care either. Right now he just wanted it over. Yet – he didn't know what to do then. _

_It was clear he could not stay in his dorm, maybe not even in the common room. But where would he go instead? He wouldn't have a place to stay really. _

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter nine **

**To shock a Potions Master**

Snape growled angrily while he waited for Harry to arrive down here.

He hadn't seen the boy during breakfast in the great hall, nor during lunch, and not even during dinner. Harry simply had not been there. He simply had missed each meal, even if he explicitly had told him that he would _have _to attend them. Even if he had thought he had made it clear to the boy how serious the situation was.

And not to mention the little fact that Harry had not been in his tower during the night. He had felt him being safe and in his tower the night before, yes, but then he had felt something that had been wrong, not quite the feeling that would have told him that Harry was in real danger, but something that was wrong and shortly after that the ring he wore had told him that the boy had left the safety of his tower, that the brat again wandered the halls of Hogwarts – after curfew.

He already had been about to go and search for the brat when he had felt that Harry had reached his destiny, the room of requirement. And there the boy had stayed throughout the night. So he had left it at that, knowing that the room would provide the brat with what he needed. Aside from food of course. But he would be able to sleep there comfortably.

He just didn't know why in Merlin's name the teenager would sleep in the room of requirement instead of in his tower. Not to mention that he didn't know how in Merlin's name the brat knew that the room even existed.

Well, maybe Granger and Weasley had been fighting again. What would have explained _why_ Harry had left and honestly, he couldn't blame the boy for it. And it would have explained why the boy had avoided the great hall for meals too. But he did not like the fact that the boy had missed meals because of them again. He would have to talk to him. And honestly, he would have to talk to those two lions as well. He really did not care why they fought, but if it concerned the health of his brat, then he would have to take some actions. It simply couldn't continue as it did right now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry slowly walked down the dungeons to Snape's quarters, all the way considering if he really should go down to the man at all. Snape surely would see that he had been fighting and Snape surely would not be pleased about it. He really would be in trouble right now, never mind what.

He didn't even know how he could explain anything without getting into even more trouble than he already was in. Not only had he been fighting. No. He had been leaving the Gryffindor common room after curfew, he had been sleeping in the room of requirement and he had been missing each meal. And surely Snape would know about that.

He just was in so much trouble right now.

And what would Snape do if he knew that he had been fighting with Ron? And if he knew the reason? Would Snape back out of their relationship? Would he send him away? Would he punish him for fighting? Would he even try to punish Ron?

He had been really possessive over him last night, after he had given him the pendant. He surely would not be pleased about Ron beating him. Would Ron be in trouble then?

Yes, he still was angry at Ron. Ron had not only judged him, his actions, his preferences concerning his partner, he had even attacked him, had beaten him, had kicked at him. But he did not want Ron getting into trouble with Snape over it. It had been a short fight and nothing more. The beatings he got from the Dursleys were much worse after all.

But then, why should Snape worry about it? It was just him, Harry, after all and no one cared about him being beaten. It was normal that he was being beaten. And honestly, he deserved it anyway. Maybe Ron finally just had seen the freak in him he was. Just like uncle Vernon. And Snape surely would see it soon too.

But then again – Snape had said that he cared.

And thus he would not like it that he had been beaten. Maybe.

Tiredly he ran his hand over his face when he reached the Potions Master's door before he softly knocked at the wood that was the man's entrance.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape was close to leaving his quarters. It was half past seven right now, half an hour later than the boy normally would come down here. It had been eight during the first few days, before they had formed their relationship, when it had been nothing more than a sexual education. But then, when he had claimed the boy as his, they had changed the time to seven and the brat always had been on time, never late. But right now he was half an hour late.

After the boy had been sleeping in the room of requirement and after the boy had missed each meal during the day. So – yes, he was worried. To put it mildly.

The soft knock that came from the door made him sigh with relief before he schooled his face into his usual indifferent mask and he called the boy in.

But then he couldn't stop the growl that escaped his throat as the relief he felt changed into worry again as soon as the door opened and the brat slowly, hesitantly and – much to his annoyance – fearfully stepped into his quarters. The brat looked as if he had been stomped over by a hippogriff and his face darkened, unintentionally startling the boy.

He took the few steps towards the boy too quickly and Harry backed away from him, only out of instinct, he knew, but nevertheless he again growled at the display of fear his brat showed towards him and he pierced him with an intense gaze of his dark eyes.

"What a pleasant sight." He couldn't help saying with his best sarcastic voice while he forced himself to move slowly when he lifted his hand to grab the brat's chin and lifted his head to have a better look at the teen's face. "Care to tell me what exactly has happened to your face, Mr. Potter?"

Harry gulped nervously at Snape's words and at the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. Ok, so they were back to Mr. Potter instead of Harry, or brat as he had called him a few times now since the past few days, a nickname he had not liked at first until he had noticed that the man had not called him thus to hurt or to humiliate him but to – well, it had been a nickname and no one before had given him one. And then he had quite liked it. But as it seemed, it was over now.

He nevertheless forced himself to keep from flinching back when the man extended his hand and grabbed his chin, turned his face upwards. But the Professor's dark eyes blazed with anger and he couldn't help feeling the fear rising in his stomach, in his chest, choking him.

"Uhm." He couldn't help making while he averted his eyes. "I … I …"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked.

"I've been in a fight, sir." Harry finally said.

"Stating the obvious, aren't we, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I can see as much by myself."

Narrowing his eyes at the boy in front of him Snape took Harry's hands in his own, again ignoring the flinch his brat gave away, turning them, inspecting them, and his face darkened even more.

"Care to explain as to what exactly has happened, Mr. Potter?" He asked, narrowing his eyes back at the bruised face of the teen in front of him.

"Well, nothing important, sir." Harry answered and Snape nearly seethed in anger, barely controlling himself. "It was just a fight in the common room, nothing more. It isn't a big deal, sir."

"Being beaten up by your fellow students isn't a big deal, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, his gaze darkening each minute that passed.

"I haven't been beaten up, sir." The brat had the nerve to say. "It was a simple fight. Nothing more."

"A simple fight." Snape growled darkly. "Then care to explain as to why I can't see any defensive injuries? No sign you fought back? Only injuries you received from someone? And I did not hear of a report throughout the day from a fight in the Gryffindor common room either. Not to mention the fact that you – apparently – avoided your fellow Gryffindors as you slept in the room of requirement? And missed each meal in the great hall? Even after I expressed _how_ important regular meals are for you?"

The boy had grown paler by each sentence he had said and a low "I'm sorry, sir" had been the only thing he had uttered, so – he had been right. His brat had allowed one of the Gryffindors to beat him up and now he was hiding out in the room of requirement.

"Who?" He simply asked.

"It isn't that important, sir, really." Potter had the nerve to defend his attacker. "I mean, nothing had happened and …"

"Who!" He repeated in a deep growl, ignoring the startled flinch the brat gave away.

"Ron." Harry finally said, cringing slightly. "But it really is nothing. It …"

"You call this nothing, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, nearly seething. "Did you even look into a mirror lately? At some time throughout the day?"

"No, sir." Harry quietly said, defeated. "I'm sorry, sir."

Sighing in frustration and shaking his head Snape released the teen's chin and gripped his shoulder instead, directed him towards the armchair by the fire and gently forced his brat to sit down.

"There is no need to apologize for your friend's violence against you, Harry." He said while he opened a cabinet door from the cupboard that stood in one corner. He quickly grabbed a vial with a bright red potion and a jar with the healing balm and went back to the boy that sighed in relief at the given name he addressed him with.

"And there is no need to apologize for anything else either. I just do not understand how you could allow Mr. Weasley such actions without fighting back, without even reporting him. This has not been a simple fight, Harry. Weasley has beaten you up pretty well. And even if I do not like fighting in the common rooms, I am worried about the fact that I do not see any defensive injuries. It is as if you had allowed him to beat you without even trying to stop him. Is your own safety worth so little to yourself?"

Again there was the low "I'm sorry, sir" and he again sighed while he reached the vial towards Harry.

"A pain relieving potion, drink it." He said, sitting himself onto the edge of the table so he had the boy in good view in front of him. "And there still is no need to apologize. As I see the situation Weasley has beaten you up and not the other way round. Care to explain as to why the fight as happened in the first place?"

"It really wasn't such a big deal." The boy answered, wincing when he cleaned a cut on his brat's forehead. "It isn't really important."

"I didn't ask you if it were a big deal or if it were important, Harry." Snape said, covering the cut with the healing balm. "I asked you as to _why_ the fight had happened in the first place."

"He has seen the pendant." The boy sighed defeated, slumping in the armchair and Snape stopped his movements, halting his hand mid air, his dark eyes fixed at the brat with a gaze that was beyond angry.

So, Weasley had seen the pendant. And as he came from a pure blood family he had recognized not only what it was but the meaning behind it as well. And thus he had …

Growling darkly he continued to cover the boy's bruises with the healing balm, noticing with some satisfaction that the bruises at least slowly vanished.

"I will have a word with Minerva." He growled darkly. "And not a word I wish to hear from you, young man. Weasley has been beating you up pretty well, a fellow housemate. If he were a Slytherin, I would have his head for this. No one should go against their own. And surely not for such a reason. I do not know what exactly is Weasley's problem, and honestly, I do not care either. But the relationship we have is a common one and Weasley had no right to act in such a violent manner. Not to mention that no one beats my submissive without being punished."

Harry glanced up at Snape, a startled expression on his face.

So, Snape did not throw him away because of this? So they still were – well, together? The relationship still was intact? He still belonged to Snape? Snape still wanted him? He couldn't help sighing in relief, even if he still felt the fear somewhere within his stomach and his chest.

Snape frowned at the brat in front of him while he noticed the relief that washed over the teenager's face at his words. Had the brat really thought he would abandon him now? Because of Weasley beating him up? Sighing in frustration he shook his head. They really would have a long way to go until his brat would trust him completely.

"Did you gain any other injuries than those on your face and your arms?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the headshake the boy gave him. The frightened look Harry regarded him with told him enough. The boy tried to hide what other injuries he might have gained.

Well, he had two possibilities.

The first would be that he forced the brat to reveal what other injuries he had gained. The most logical thought as he did not know the extent of those injuries. They could be harmless, but they also could be serious. Not to mention the fact that he did not like being lied to.

And he knew he had his ways to get access to those injuries. He was experienced in handling injured students as he had enough abused children in his house and as he had enough dealings with his students getting into a fight, just because they were Slytherins.

The problem was, Harry was not simply one of his students. Harry was his junior partner in a relationship that wasn't easy. They stood at the beginning of this relationship and the trust the boy showed towards him was – even if Harry would place his life in his hands in a dire situation without even hesitating for a second – thin. The brat trusted him, but he feared him nevertheless and he only could imagine what exactly would happen if he forced him to undress now in front of him.

The brat already looked ready to run and he simply couldn't afford this. Not while the teen was in such a condition. He of course could send him to Poppy, but somehow he doubted that this action would be much more effective. So, gritting his teeth he reached another vial at the boy.

"A healing potion." He explained. "Just in case you have some more injuries which you are not ready to reveal yet."

His voice made clear that this exactly was what he thought, that he wasn't pleased with the situation either, but that he would accept it at the moment as it was. It also made clear that he wouldn't always act thus and if there should be a next time he would not allow him to get away so easily.

Well, at the "I'm sorry, sir" the brat gave away, Snape knew that Harry clearly felt his disappointment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

They were entering the small kitchen that was attached to his quarters for a late dinner and the Potions Master was considering if he should touch the boy that walked in front of him and if, then how to initiate it. Or if he should wait. Well, he surely would not touch him from behind without a warning, that much was clear. He didn't want to startle the teenager that was already jumpy enough. And surely not after he had been beaten up by Weasley the night before.

Well, they hadn't touched yet. Not in that way he thought of right now, anyway. And he surely wouldn't force the boy to do so, nor would he force him to accept his touch if he wasn't ready yet. The boy was sixteen after all, not quite of age yet. And he wasn't experienced either. Damn, the boy had done nothing than sharing one single kiss that hadn't even been a pleasant one – in all his sixteen years of life thus far.

He definitely had to be slowly and he had to be careful, never mind how much he would like to touch this delicious body in front of him. He would have to be slowly and carefully if he didn't want to frighten the brat and again he wondered what in Merlin's name had gotten into him, starting a relationship with a person as difficult as Harry was. Yet – he knew it had been the right thing. He knew if he could get the brat past his difficulties, then it would be worth all the trouble they had went through.

He cast another thoughtful look at Potter just the moment when the teenager's knees gave way under him and Snape only was quick enough to catch him before he would hit the floor because he was used to act fast in order to prevent stupid students from adding dangerous ingredients to their potions.

With shaking hands he lowered the boy to the floor when it was apparent that he had lost consciousness, his face edged with worry. Even knowing that it wouldn't help, he nevertheless shook the boy lightly, calling his name, and even if he knew that he simply overreacted he felt his heart leaping into his throat when there was no response.

Gritting his teeth at his own stupidity he pressed his fingers at the boy's throat to feel for a pulse. Honestly, the boy simply had dropped and honestly, he should have known that such would happen at one point.

It was faint but steady and sighing with relief he ran one hand beneath the boy's back and the other under his knees and gathered the teenager into his arms.

He placed the limp form onto the sofa, again worrying about _how_ light the teenager was and he ran a quick diagnostic spell, just in case Weasley had done more damage than he had thought and just in case Weasley had done more damage than the brat had admitted when he had told him that he had been fine now earlier. The diagnostic clearly showed that the brat had dropped because of a low blood pressure and a low blood sugar.

He would run a more defined diagnostic spell later, but for now it would have to be enough.

Growling angrily he summoned a cloth from the bathroom and wet it with a swift "aquamenti" from his wand. He sat onto the edge of the sofa beside the lithe form and placed the wet cloth onto the teenager's forehead, shaking his head slightly. He shouldn't be surprised that the damn brat had dropped, honestly. As thin and as underweight as he was. He should have known that this would happen at one point. One simply couldn't go without food forever without his body giving in at one point.

Giving a sigh away he stood to get a few potions he thought he might need.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry woke with a low groan and a slight feeling of dizziness and for a moment he didn't know where he was, what had happened and why he felt as if something _had_ happened. He tried to sit up just to find himself unable to as a new wave of dizziness washed over him and he tried to figure out instead where exactly he was - just to find himself flat on Snape's sofa and with a cool cloth placed on his forehead and he groaned again, this time in frustration.

He hadn't fainted.

No! He surely had _not_ fainted!

And surely he hadn't fainted in _Snape's_ _presence_!

A third time he groaned out in frustration and he forced himself into a sitting position on the sofa.

"Set one foot onto the floor and you will live to regret it, young man." Came Snape's dark voice from the doorway to his left and he turned his head towards the man. Snape definitely looked angry and he gulped heavily, nervously. As it seemed he was in trouble for only Merlin knew how often during this single evening. It definitely was a record, even for him.

"How do you feel?" The Potions Master wanted to know after watching his brat for a moment, who had dropped his gaze down onto his hands that were – how should it be otherwise – once again tightened into this complicated knot.

"Fine, sir." He automatically answered in a small and nearly fearful voice. Why was it always him who got into trouble with Snape? "I'm sorry, sir."

"There is no need to apologize, Harry." Snape said, sitting onto the edge of the coffee table, not for the first time this evening, and watching Harry with a searching gaze. "I fear you may have fallen unconscious for quite a few moments."

Harry nodded, not looking at him yet. "Oh, ok. Sorry, sir."

Snape frowned at the boy on the sofa.

"Oh, and ok. This is all you have to say to that, Harry?" He asked, dumbfounded, nearly shocked, yet – his voice was severe. "You do not have to apologize for falling unconscious, but all you have to say is oh? And ok?"

"Uhm." The brat made again. "But … well … it happened before … it isn't the first time … it isn't a great deal … really."

It isn't a great deal?

Harry fell unconscious in his quarters and it appeared that such had happened before and it wasn't a great deal? Was the teen trying to shock him _at all costs?_

Narrowing his eyes at the teenager he remembered him saying the same words earlier. It wasn't a great deal to get beaten up, according to the boy. And it wasn't a great deal to lose consciousness out of nowhere either, according to the boy.

Growling darkly he shook his head and reached a vial towards the boy. "Drink this, Harry. It is a potion that will settle your stomach so you will be able to keep the next potions down." He said and Harry suddenly got nervous. He hated it when the stern man's voice dropped down even deeper than it normally was. It meant he was – even more serious, angry, mad, worried … something like that.

He downed the potion obediently and reached the empty vial back to Snape who immediately reached another one towards him.

"A potion that will regulate your blood sugar, drink it!" The man ordered sternly. "When did this happen before? And how often?"

Oh, oh. There they were, those questions – again. And those questions never were good, because he simply never had been good at keeping anything from Snape. Yet – it was important that he kept some things from the older wizard. At least if he wanted … if he wanted what? To keep this relationship? But hadn't Snape told him that he wanted honesty? On the other hand – if he told Snape and the man knew what a freak and what a weakling he was then it would be over before he would be able to say even BDSM.

Nevertheless he never had been able to hide anything from him. And surely not when the man really wanted to have some answers to those questions. And right now he looked like he really _did_ want to have those answers. At least if he judged that long and weird look the man watched him with correctly. He had seen the Potions Master giving a similar look to some of his potions ingredients during classes throughout the years. And Snape had looked at him that way for many times now. And the fact that he still couldn't figure out what this look meant made him just the more uneasy.

The man sometimes seemed to read his mind even without using legillimens.

"At number four." Harry murmured, sighing in defeat, his eyes still on his hands. "Privet Drive. And I don't know how often."

"What do you mean with – you do not know how often?" Snape asked darkly, watching the boy close. Falling unconscious wasn't something that happened every day. The brat surely had to remember how often such had happened.

"I just don't know it." Harry murmured. "I'm sorry, sir."

Snape sighed. "Was it more than twice?" He asked. "More than three or four times?"

"Uhm." Was all Harry made, looking at everything but him and Snape instantly knew that he was far from the truth.

"What exactly do you mean with 'uhm'?" He wanted to know. "How often is 'uhm'?"

"I just don't know, sir."

"Might I be correct in the assumption that it just was too often for you to count?"

Another 'uhm' told Snape that he was right and he had to suppress a low growl.

"I guess your aunt or uncle took you to a doctor then?" The Potions Master asked instead of insisting upon an answer. "To a muggle doctor? And what did this one say?"

"Uhm." Was again the only answer he got and the Potions Master blinked at him. He wasn't really irritated at the repeated proof of the lack of eloquent language Harry displayed. Not this time at least. He was rather worried that this repeated 'uhm' might mean what he began to fear it meant.

"Am I correct if I guess that your relatives did _not _– take you to a doctor at all then?" He asked, his voice dangerously low and slow, as if he tried to control his emotions this way and Harry shrunk back towards the backrest of the sofa, watching him with fear clearly written in his face. Snape was mad at him.

The brat drew back from him, fear written all over his face, over his entire features, written in red letters and Snape gave another frustrated growl away.

"Then, tell me, Harry, what did your relatives do then?" He asked, trying to get his anger under control and trying to get his voice back to normal.

No answer came this time and Snape placed his fingers under the teenager's chin to lift his head, trying to ignore the startled flinch.

"Look – at – me!" He demanded.

Harry looked up and slowly, barely able to conceal his anger, he repeated his question. "What did your relatives do then, when you lost consciousness? An answer if you please. And do not lie to me. Not about this!"

Harry swallowed dryly, knowing that he had no other choice now than to tell the truth. Snape would skin him alive if he would lie to him now and he would find out later about it.

"Uncle Vernon left … well, he left me in my … in my room." He silently whispered.

Noticing the slight hesitance before the words 'in my room', Snape knew that it wasn't what Harry exactly wanted to say and he narrowed his eyes at the teenager. Yet, he let it slip – for now at least. It was just one more thing to remember at a later time.

"Your uncle left you in your room? Unconscious? And without supervision?" He asked, his voice calm but with more than just an angry note in it.

"I am not angry at _you_, Harry." He said to calm the teenager who began to tense up immediately. "I just begin to wonder what those wretched relatives of yours did to you aside from what I have seen during your occlumency lessons."

"I'm sorry, sir." Harry whispered and Snape could see that the teenager was close to tears. He sighed again.

"I am _not - angry - at you,_ Harry." He repeated. "Did this happen at Hogwarts also?" He then asked. "Does Madam Pomfrey know about this?"

"No, sir." Harry answered, still in his small voice, his eyes back on his hands that twisted even tighter into this irritate knot and Snape had to suppress the urge to pull those fingers apart. "It didn't happen at Hogwarts … up to now, sir. And Madam Pomfrey doesn't know about it either, sir."

Running his hand over his face for a moment Snape sighed.

"I am not really surprised that you lost consciousness in the first place, Harry, seeing how underweight you are, but _you_ do not seem to know how serious the situation is." He finally said. "You fell unconscious often enough so you are not even able to tell me _how_ often it happened. That alone is a fact I do worry about. But your relatives seemingly did not do anything against it and even left you alone in your room when such happened. Do you have any idea _how _serious that is?"

But yet again – "I'm sorry, sir" was the only answer he got from the teenager.

"Again, you do not have to apologize." Snape said, his voice getting even more serious and again he pulled Harry's face up so the teen would have to look at him. "Neither for falling unconscious nor for the neglect your relatives has shown towards you. I have just one question left right now. How long? How long has this been happening? How long did they neglect you? And when did you lose consciousness the first time?"

There was no answer and Snape growled angrily, darkly.

"How – long – Mr. Potter?" He asked, making clear he demanded an answer by using the teen's sure name and the boy cringed, casting a desperate look at him. Yet, he continued to watch him with the same stern look, not backing away.

"Always." The teen finally murmured and Snape lifted his eyebrow at him, his gaze still dark and angry.

"What exactly means?" He asked.

"As long as I can remember." Harry again murmured quietly, looking away again.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

They had been eating a small and late dinner, and after asking the boy where he intended to sleep this night and the teenager answering him that he couldn't go back to the tower, not now at least, that he would go back to the room of requirement, Snape had growled again. He had told him in no unmistakable terms that this would not be an option and that he would stay right here where he was.

The boy soon had fallen asleep on his lap again, just like the evening before, after he had dispelled the boy's fears concerning him sleeping in his quarters and the other teachers or the headmaster finding out about their relationship and him being sacked and sent to Azkaban then.

**Flashback**

_The boy was laying with his upper body in his lap, tired and exhausted, worried and again the far too thin body trembled with cold, not able to keep its own body heat and Snape took the blanket from the backrest and placed it over the teen's small form, just as he had done the evening before._

_"You are not used to the old pure blood ways, Harry, as it seems, and considering your upbringing it is no wonder, honestly." He said in a low voice. "But believe me, it won't be such a – big deal, to use your own words. It is quite common and normal that within a relationship such as ours, namely between two partners with the same gender, the difference in age between the senior partner and the junior partner is quite large. Twenty years are quite normal here and nothing to worry about. And neither is the fact that you are not of age yet. In such a relationship I even could have claimed you if you were fifteen and I could have bonded with you as soon as you had been sixteen. Such relationships are called educational relationships as the senior partner is teaching his junior partner in every areas of life. In pure blood standards, in etiquette, in traditions, in manners, and last but not least in behaviour around society and culture. The area is quite wide and in the old days it was standard that an older wizard has been taking a much younger witch or wizard as his partner to hand down such knowledge."_

_He noticed that the brat for once listened closely and he had to suppress a low chuckle at the thought that it was since the boy had asked this fateful question that he listened to his words. Never before in all those years he'd had the boy in potions had he listened to what he had said. He r__an his hand through the boy's unruly mop of black hair, unconsciously, sighing a sigh of relief. _

_His brat was here and he was safe at the moment. He wasn't really healthy, but he was well at the moment. And nothing else was important right now._

_"Throughout the years this tradition has become lost within the wizarding community and the old ways of behaviour ha__ve gotten lost too. The students aren't able anymore to display any self control or to show any respect towards their elders or teachers, they do not display manners, and even the younger teachers are not able to show as much passion as needed when teaching and keeping their entrusted students safe."_

_"In other words, our entire world is lost." The brat murmured sleepily and Snape couldn't help but giving away a slight huff. Yet, the brat was right._

_"Yes, brat." He growled, noticing the boy relaxing when he called him brat, when he addressed him with the nickname he had given him, and he couldn't help giving away a slight smile. "Our world indeed is lost. At least the old ways."_

_"So, all in all, it is allowed?" The sleepy voice asked and when he looked down into the pale face he noticed that the brat had his eyes closed._

_"Yes, it is allowed." He answered. "And I even consider informing Albus and Minerva of our relationship to get you out of your dorm and down here into my quarters."_

_"'K." The brat murmured, nearly asleep and Snape doubted that he really had understood his last words. _

**End flashback**

Taking a deep breath he scooped Harry into his arms, giving away a low growl at the new reminder that the teen was far lighter and smaller than he ought to be. He paused momentarily to see if the teenager would wake at the movement, but all that happened was Harry's head lolling against his chest.

With a silent and wandless spell he shoved the door to his guest chamber open and placed his submissive on the bed. Sitting beside him onto the edge of the mattress he pulled off the trainers and the robes the teen wore. He hesitated for a moment and then waved his wand over the boy, transfiguring his clothes into a pair of pyjamas. The boy might fear him, somehow, but he trusted him and he would not break this trust by undressing the boy while he wasn't aware of this.

Taking the blanket from the foot of the bed he covered the boy and tucked the blanket over the teen's shoulders, ensuring that he was covered and wouldn't be cold during the night. He again ran his hands through Harry's unruly black hair, noticing that right now, in sleep, the boy looked far more relaxed and peaceful than he normally did and he lowered his head to one side in a thoughtful manner, wondering if he really would be able to get the boy through all his worries, his fears, his troubles and his difficulties.

Growling darkly he promised himself that he would manage it before he left the chamber, leaving the door ajar.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The soft whimpers coming from the boy's room got him awake immediately and Snape placed the book he still held in his hands onto the table beside the armchair he sat in and immediately he got up and entered his guest chamber. The teenager was sitting upright on the bed, his back pressed into the corner against the wall, hugging his knees against his chest, and his face a mask of desperate horror. The boy rather looked like a small child right now than like the teenager he was and Snape sighed while he sat at the edge of the mattress, slowly reaching out.

"Harry!" He quietly said. "Wake up, Harry." He reached out instinctively and held the boy's face in his hands. Harry stopped his whimpering, but he did not fully wake. Instead he screwed his eyes shut and threw his arm up over his face as if to cover it from an upcoming blow.

"Open your eyes, you are safe." He brushed the teen's fringe off his forehead, ignoring the flinch and simply pressing the teens arms down with one hand while with the thumb of his other he brushed away some of the boy's tears. "Come on, Harry. Look at me."

The teen didn't throw his arms up again, instead he bent forwards, hugging his arms around his stomach and rolling into a small ball as he so often did lately.

"Please, 'ncle Vernon." The boy whispered from beneath his arms, his voice a silent murmur, sleepy and hitching with unshed tears. "'m hungry … please … can't breathe 'n here … 's too small."

As fearsome as he wanted to be towards his students and as cold and dark as he wanted to appear, that simply was too much, even for him – listening to a hungry child pleading for something to eat – and he growled in anger at the thought that the boy's relatives simply had ignored those pleas. There surely had been no way that they had not heard them too. They simply had ignored them. However they had been able doing so.

He again tried to wake Harry up fully. He simply would get the boy to eat a light snack and then get him back to bed. As he ate none to nothing at regular meals a small late night snack wouldn't harm the boy. So he reached out again, touching the boy's shoulders.

"Hush, Potter." He growled. "Wake up and let's get you something to eat. And then you can go back to bed. And it isn't too small either. It's rather the other way round." He added in an angry whisper when the thought struck him that maybe that was the reason as to why the teen was as small as he was, smaller than any of his classmates. That brat could go as a third year for all he knew.

"Cupboard's too small." The teenager murmured, still not able to wake completely from his dream. "Can't breathe 'n here."

The cupboard? Narrowing his eyes at his brat Snape slowly replayed a scene from last year's occlumency lessons in his head.

A small boy sitting in a cupboard, crying – he had thought Potter simply had been hiding in there.

A letter, with the Hogwarts seal and the words 'the cupboard under the stairs' – he hadn't paid attention to that at all.

But now, considering the boy's neglect at the hands of his relatives and the words he unintentionally spoke right now in his nightmare … the pieces of information he back then had stored away in the back of his mind for a later use – they fell into place suddenly.

And for some reason that made Snape's entire body freeze in place and his blood to run cold. Surely he had not heard rightly. Surely he had misunderstood the boy's low and sleepy murmurings. He suddenly wasn't able to stop the dark and angry growl that escaped his throat.

"'m sorry." Harry began to whisper, apparently noticing his – Snape's – anger. "'m sorry."

Growling angrily again he reached out once more. He did not want the boy apologizing for having a nightmare and with a gentle grasp he pulled the boy away from the wall and into his arms, ignoring the weak struggle the boy gave away.

"Hush. Calm down, Harry." He said, his voice loud enough so the teen would hear him in his half-awake state and low enough so he would not frighten him further. "Calm down. You are safe. It was nothing more than a dream. Everything is alright, Harry. You are in the guest chamber in my quarters. Calm down, Harry."

It took him a few minutes to get Harry fully awake and calm again, and another few minutes until the teenager stopped apologizing for waking him in the middle of the night. It took him once more a few minutes to get Harry to eat something, and finally more few minutes and a sleepless dream potion until he had him back asleep – an hour after he had entered the boy's room.

'_I do not want to have anything from you besides of your trust and your loyalty. Nor do I expect you to grow into an adult overnight. You are a teenager and I am fully aware of what I get myself into.'_

Yes, that had been his words to Harry, only a few days earlier. And he had meant them. He still meant them. He just wasn't sure if he really had known what he had gotten himself into back then.

He wouldn't back out of this, however. Surely not.

Harry belonged to him and he knew it. He didn't know why, nor how, but he knew that it was thus. Harry belonged to him as if he were a part of him. He could feel his fears, he could feel his doubts and he could feel his pains. He felt himself being more and more possessive and protective over his brat. And at the same time he knew that it was not only because of the pendant the boy wore around his neck.

That relationship was what had to be.

He just wasn't sure if he really had known what he had gotten himself into while starting a relationship with this particular teenager.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_the first kiss and Harry learning how passionate a certain Potions Master can be …  
_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	10. in care of a Potions Master

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_Well, the brat had chosen the sofa and Snape hadn't had to wait long until Harry's breathing had evened out and the boy had fallen asleep. And watching him for a few more minutes, he had wondered how much sleep the brat had missed at the Dursleys. The boy definitely was exhausted. And deeply so._

_He would find out more, he promised to himself. And he would do whatever it would take to help his brat to recover. And not only physically._

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_Harry belonged to him and he knew it. He didn't know why, nor how, but he knew that it was thus. Harry belonged to him as if he were a part of him. He could feel his fears, he could feel his doubts and he could feel his pains. He felt himself being more and more possessive and protective over his brat. And at the same time he knew that it was not only because of the pendant the boy wore around his neck._

_That relationship was what had to be._

_He just wasn't sure if he really had known what he had gotten himself into while starting a relationship with this particular teenager._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter ten **

**In care of a Potions Master**

Harry woke with the feeling that for the first time in many, many weeks he really was rested and he gave a satisfied sigh while he stretched. It was a good feeling to wake up without being still tired. He had transfiguration at first and then charms. Both subjects he had no problems with. After lunch he'd have defence and after that a free period until dinner.

It would be an easy day. At least now, that he was rested and didn't run danger of falling asleep in the middle of a lesson like the past few days.

He really felt good, for the first time in many, many weeks.

But this feeling did not last long, for the moment he opened his eyes he shot up in bed, startled. He was not in the Gryffindor dormitory, not even in the Gryffindor tower, that much was obvious. He had spent five years now up there, it was his home, and Harry had memorized every corner of the room, every piece of furniture and every stone of the masonry, the ceiling and the floor. He would recognize that room in the dark, and he even would recognize it blindfolded.

And this – this here was not the dormitory, nor was it any room in the Gryffindor tower at all and for a moment he began to panic.

He didn't know where he was. The room was dark, not completely dark, but semi dark. No window was there to let in any light. The only light was cast by candles on either side of the door, above a table to his left, and on the wall either side of the bed he lay in. Never before had he seen this room. It definitely was a strange room.

So – where was he?

Forcing himself to think calmly and clearly, logically and thus catching himself before he got into a panic he drew in a shaking breath, balled his hands into fists and tried to think logically.

He wasn't in the Gryffindor tower – that much was sure. There simply didn't exist such a room.

He was not back at Privet Drive either, that much was sure as well. There too didn't exist such a room. Not even the basement was like this room.

And he was not at Grimmauld Place. He didn't know that house good enough, but it didn't smell like Grimmauld Place. His dead godfather's house smelled old and damp, and this room here smelled …

Groaning in frustration he recognized the smell of herbs, of potions ingredients and of the Potions Master himself, of Snape, and memories came flying at him, unwanted, unbidden, memories of him, fainting in Snape's quarters, in Snape's presence, memories of the conversation they'd had afterwards and memories of him, crying all over the man, admitting what his relatives had done.

Partly at least.

Again.

He must have fallen asleep on the sofa and Snape, must have carried him into this room. It must be a spare room in the Potions Master's quarters.

What would the man now think of him? He had behaved like a baby. He had behaved like an idiot. He had … oh Merlin!

For a moment he considered pulling the blanket over his head and hiding beneath the large fabric, never ever coming forth again, staying there forever until he died of shame. But then – he knew it wasn't possible and he knew that Snape wouldn't even let him. So he better got up and got it over with.

He would have to face Snape's wrath at one point or another anyway, and better sooner than later. So, with a heavy sigh and trembling hands he pushed the blanket aside and left the large bed.

Snape's wrath.

Severus' wrath.

Maybe he even better didn't think of the Potions Master as Severus anymore but as Snape only. Maybe he better prepared himself for being hated by Snape again. The man surely wouldn't want having him anymore now that he knew what a freak he was, what a weakling, what an idiot and what a baby. He …

"Back to insulting yourself, I see?" Snape's voice drew him out of his thoughts and startled he looked up. The man was standing in the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the wooden frame and his arms folded over his chest. His eyebrow was raised at him in his typical Snape-manner but he couldn't see a smirk on the Potions Master's face.

"I'm sorry, sir." Harry murmured. Better safe than sorry, after all. He'd had learned this one a long time ago with his uncle.

"Whatever for, Harry?" The older wizard asked and at the use of his given name the man used Harry tried to force himself to relax a bit and to take a step towards the door while he shrugged his shoulders and looked aside.

"Come here, brat." Snape said in a gentle voice that nearly startled him, and seeing that the professor wasn't angry at him, Harry slowly moved closer again until he was within arm length.

Sighing Snape reached out and quickly gripped the boy on his shoulders before he could retreat again, gaining a startled look from the teenager for his action.

"I would say a late breakfast is in order." He smirked as Harry cast a quick and startled gaze at the clock he had seen earlier in a corner of the room. It was a quarter past nine and the teenager immediately spun into action, cursing under his breath about missed classes. He tightened the grip he had on Harry's shoulder, stopping him.

"You surely won't have any classes _today_, Mr. Potter." The Potions Master drawled.

Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. "No classes today?" He asked, blinking at him in confusion.

"Seeing as it is Saturday morning, no, you surely won't have any classes." Snape lifted his eyebrow. "And apart from that little fact, you won't have classes for a few more days, at least a week."

The teenager blinked at him in even more confusion, shaking his head.

"No classes for a week?" He asked, nearly shocked.

"I have spoken with your head of house this morning." Snape said, leading the teenager on his shoulder out of the guest room and into the small kitchen.

**Flashback**

_Snape silently opened the door that led to Minerva's quarters after the court "come in, Severus" from the deputy headmistress and he nearly smirked at the thought that the woman knew him just too well meanwhile. Well, __they were rather close friends since a long time now, despite what some might think because of their constant bickering, and he had visited her often enough for a cup of tea during the past fifteen years, so yes, she of course recognized his knock._

_The woman's living room was as untidy as always, books, robes, parchments, quills and other items covering the desk, the chairs and the backrest of the sofa and at least three empty cups were standing on the desk and on the small coffee table as well as a bottle of Scottish whiskey and a tumbler._

_The trash bin under the desk was flowing over and a blanket was thrown over the backrest of the chair in front of the desk. Apparently she had been sitting there up until late night, working._

_"What can I do for you, Severus?" Minerva asked and he turned his gaze at the woman that right now was trying to get her hair into her normally stern bun. "Take a seat. And don't you dare touching the whiskey!"_

_"Don't worry, Minerva, it is too early for a drink." Snape said, addressing the Gryffindor head of house. He still stood near the door, his back to the wall and facing the woman that was Harry's head of house. "I just wanted to inform you, if you miss a student, he is down in the dungeons, in my quarters to be precise." _

_"Missing a student?" The deputy headmistress blinked at him in confusion while she poured some of the whiskey into two glasses anyway and reached one at the Potions Master. "I do not miss a student, Severus."_

_The younger teacher lifted his eyebrow at the Transfiguration Professor. He stood tall and straight, nearly tense as always, his head held high and now the tumbler with the whiskey the woman had reached towards him in his hands._

_"You mean, you do not miss one of your sixth years? Since yesterday evening?" Snape asked, lifting his glass at her and taking a sip, savouring the slightly burning sensation the liquid caused in his throat and in his stomach. "Don't you know where your students are during the night?"_

_"How come that one of my sixth years is in your quarters during the entire night, Severus?" Minerva asked, taking a sip too. "And who is it, by the way? Just if you don't mind me asking?"_

_"Of course, Minerva, I never would mind to inform you of the whereabouts of your students." Snape drawled in his usual Snape-manner. "It is Mr. Potter whom we are speaking of. And he had a breakdown during detention last night."_

_"A breakdown?" Minerva asked and now she sounded worried. "What in Merlin's name did you do to the boy? And why did you keep him in your quarters after a breakdown instead of bringing him to the __infirmary?"_

_"I did nothing to the boy, Minerva." Snape growled. "But you seemed to miss several signs of neglect, I dare say."_

_"I beg your pardon?" The older woman huffed at him before taking another sip. "Somehow I am under the impression that you want to tell me, I do not take proper care of my students."_

_"Then you are under a correct impression, Minerva." Snape growled. "I do not know about your students in general, and honestly, I do not care either. But let me just say that Mr. Potter had been neglected and starved over years by his relatives and you didn't notice it. And now Mr. Potter is missing from his dormitory for an entire night and you didn't notice it either. But who am I to tell you that you are too careless with your lions?"_

_"At least I do not invade the privacy of my students." Minerva huffed but the Potions Master easily could see that she had only half her heart in it. _

_"Surely not." He drawled, swirling the golden liquid in the tumbler. "You rather lose them for an entire night."_

_Again Minerva huffed, but then she grew serious. "That doesn't answer my question, however. Why didn't you bring Potter to the __infirmary after a breakdown? And how far went this neglect? I have to admit that the boy always was a bit too thin, but never would I have considered neglect. He never mentioned something."_

_"Of course, Minerva." This time it was Snape who huffed at her before taking another sip. He surely could use the glass of the strong Scottish whiskey before he told her that he was in a relationship with one of her students. "The brat surely would go to a teacher and complain about being neglected. Imagine."_

_"Well, you have a point, Severus."_

_"And as to why I brought him into my quarters instead of the infirmary." Snape said, his eyebrow lifted at the deputy headmistress daringly. "I have to deal with such issues often enough with my Slytherins and I know what I have to do in order to get more information out of those children."_

_This time Minerva McGonagall sighed. "Thank you, Severus." She shook her head at the Potions Master. "I know that you always deal with those students. Sometimes I wonder what we would do without you."_

_"You simply would have to brew your potions alone, a rather – disturbing thought. However, I will keep Mr. Potter down in the dungeons for now to ensure that he will have enough rest and nutrition before we should allow him to take his meals alone in the great hall where he either missed meals since the start of term or – nibbled – at dry toast out of fear he wouldn't be able to stomach more at the present time. Not to mention that I wish to have the brat close by and out of his dormitory as Weasley already had been beating him up pretty well because he is in a relationship with one of his teachers."_

_"Oh, yes, that is just fine with me, Severus." Minerva answered, taking another sip before she grasped what exactly the Potions Master had said and coughed at the whiskey she had swallowed a moment ago._

_"Wait a moment, Severus!" She then said, her voice startled. "I beg your pardon? What was it you just told me?"_

_"I said, you simply would have to brew your potions alone." Snape smirked at the woman. "A thought that is rather disturbing."_

_"No, Severus!" Minerva growled. "I rather meant what you said after that."_

_"That I wish to keep Potter down in the dungeons to ensure that he has enough nutrition until he can eat by himself in the great hall after his stomach got used to food?"_

_"No, Severus, I meant after that too!" Minerva shook her head. "At the end of your speech."_

_"Oh." Snape made__, his eyebrow lifted in amusement. "Then you surely meant the part where I told you that I have a relationship with your student and thus wish to keep him in my quarters instead of his dormitory where he only would get beaten up again by Weasley for said relationship."_

_"You do know that Potter is still a student and not of age yet, Severus?"_

_"I am strangely aware of that little fact, Minerva, yes." Snape drawled. "And at the same time I am sure that you are aware of the little fact that such is not only legal but common between relationships such as ours."_

_"And what kind of relationship is it you have with my student, Severus, if I may ask?" Minerva wanted to know, refilling her glass and Snape only could smirk at her. He had known that the woman would need more than just one glass of her whiskey to swallow that bit of information._

_"It is a common educational relationship, Minerva." He said, lifting his eyebrow at her. "And no, I will not force him to anything, I am sure you do know me that well by now."_

_"Of course, I do, Severus." She sighed, taking a large swallow this time. "I just am worried. If it is true what you have told me a moment ago about the boy's neglect, then he has been through enough. As has been you. Neither of you need a failed relationship."_

_"Do__ not worry about me, woman!" Snape growled darkly at her, pointing the forefinger of the hand he held the tumbler with at her. "And concerning your lion, I surely won't hurt him! He is mine! I just wanted to inform you that I will keep him in my quarters for the time being. And that Weasley has beaten him up pretty well last night."_

_"Well, then be it." Minerva sighed again. "And concerning Mr. Weasley's action, be assured, I will have a word with him."_

_"Do__ not bother yourself with this either." Snape huffed at the woman. "Potter is my submissive and I will have – a word – with Weasley myself."_

_"Please, don't kill him, Severus." The head of Gryffindor begged him._

_"Don't worry, woman!" Snape __sneered. "I won't cut him into potions ingredients. He would ruin each potion by being an ingredient. And surely I won't use him as a test object for a new invented potion either as I do not have one that would be unpleasant enough. But no one beats my brat without being punished by me."_

**End flashback**

"Sit." He ordered, pressing the boy down onto the chair he had been sitting in the evening before. "You will stay down here for at least next week and you won't have classes during this time either. We will have to discuss your eating habits and I want to overlook you during your next few meals until I can be sure that you are ready to take your meals in the great hall alone."

"Uhm … I'm sixteen, sir." His brat had the nerve to give contradiction. "I am capable of … sorry, sir." Of course the teenager's eyes at once dropped to the stony floor and Snape reached over to place his fingertips under Harry's chin and to lift the boy's head so he had to look at him.

"First, Harry, I want you to look at me when we talk. You have to learn that we are emancipated partners. It might be normal that in a relationship such as ours the senior partner has the last word about important decisions as a young man such as yourself surely won't be able to consider all the details in some situations, but that does not mean you are less worth than I am. You have the same rights and what you have to say has the same importance than what I have to say. You are as important a person as I am. And thus, you have the same stand as I have. Remember that, Harry, and act like it."

"You …" Harry began, swallowing dryly. "You mean … you want … to continue this?"

"Why ever not?" Snape asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Because …" Again Harry's gaze dropped to his hands he held in his lap and that – out of some strange reason – were back to be tangled in this complicated knot again. "Because you now know that … that I'm just a freak. That I'm …"

"Do not even start it, Harry." Snape growled darkly. "Continue to insult my companion – and you will end up scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of this school year."

"But …"

"There are not buts, Mr. Potter." The older wizard hissed angrily, leaning closer. "First, you may be right in one point. I might not have foreseen nor planned to get into a relationship with a teenager that is ill and in need to be patched up in the first place. But as it is, we do have to get you patched up and believe me, I do not mind. It is not your fault and we will deal with it. Second, I have a fairly well idea as to who exactly planted such stupid insults into this thick head of yours, but your relatives lied."

He leaned back and turned to the counter, taking a plate with toast and bringing it to the table before he continued. "You do have some brain in that thick skull of yours, our conversations the past days proved that. You are a handsome young man, even if you do not see this. And you have a kind heart, even if I – up to now – have not seen it during the past years. Do not insult yourself with lies your relatives planted in your head. They are not worth it."

His brat only nodded, still not looking at him and the Potions Master shook his head, turning back to the counter and took a plate of scrambled eggs and sausages, brought this one too to the table.

"And now eat your breakfast." He growled. "You do not have to finish all that is laid out but you will not get off this table before you did not eat at least more than the past days either.

Harry looked unsurely at the buttered toast, the crumbled eggs, the cereals and the fruits on the table and then unsurely back at the Potions Master. What if he wouldn't be able to stomach it? He never had breakfast. And surely he had never had so much so soon after he had gotten back to school from the Dursleys. What if he wouldn't be able to stomach it? What if he would be ill in front of Snape? What if he would be ill in front of Severus?

The older wizard lifted his eyebrow at him, a vial twirling between his fingers before he placed the small glass container in front of Harry.

"I suggest you take a stomach soothing potion first." The man implied with his raised eyebrow. "This way you will be able taking whatever you want without feeling sick and your stomach can get used to eat a real meal instead of – _nibbling_ on a piece of toast."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

During breakfast Snape watched Harry close while they talked and he was pleased to see that the teenager ate slowly but enough for his liking so he didn't press him further when Harry finally leaned back, his right hand placed above his stomach as if he felt uncomfortable.

The Potions Master knew that he surely wasn't ill, as he had given him the potion beforehand, that he just wasn't used to having a full stomach in the first place.

"Now, Harry. I want you to eat as much as you did now during breakfast, during lunch and during dinner for the next few days." He said, leading the teenager towards the living room. "And I want you to eat a smaller amount of fruits between those meals."

"I won't be able to eat such an amount three times a day!" Harry protested, but Snape shook his head.

"I know." The older wizard said. "But I want you to at least give it a try. You might never have given it a thought, whatever reason for, but I can tell you the reason you lost consciousness yesterday evening was because of lack of food. And I guess that it was the same reason whenever you lost consciousness during the summer break and you living with your wretched relatives. They didn't provide you with enough food, if any at all. Correct me if I am wrong, Harry, but I begin to fear that the little you had, you had to sneak out."

Harry said nothing to that, he didn't even nod, nor did he shake his head. He just looked aside and Snape knew immediately that he was right. "However." He continued. "I want you to know that, should you – against your own believes – get hungry between, then you may get whatever you want from the kitchen."

Harry looked at Snape in pure shock. The man surely wasn't serious. How would he be able to stomach anything between the five – yes, _five_, not three, but _five_ – meals, he was condemned to? And surely he wouldn't be able to get anything he wanted from the older wizard's kitchen! What if there was something that the Professor needed for himself? What if there was something the Potions Master needed for Potions? What if there was something Snape – Severus, damn! – was saving for special events?

No, it definitely was better to keep his fingers off Severus' things.

As if sensing Harry's unease Snape lifted his eyebrow and pierced the teenager with his dark eyes.

"Harry." He said and his voice sounded serious. "Not only are you a student of mine. You also are a person that has become very important to me. Not to mention the little fact that you are the junior partner in a relationship with me and it lies in my responsibility to care for you – and for your needs. I surely won't deny you elementary things like food."

"I know you wouldn't do that." Harry said with a hint of defiance in his voice.

"I am not really sure that you do." Snape still pierced the teenager with his dark eyes while he grabbed the boy's upper arm, stopping him in his steps. "You seemed to get lost for a bit last night after a nightmare, and you said something that made me think that perhaps you thought you were back with your relatives."

"Uhm …" Harry made, his eyes back down at his hands. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to."

"I do know that you _did not mean to_, Harry." Snape said and he had to suppress a heavy sigh. He didn't want to do this, but he knew that it was important and he knew that he had to address Harry with what he'd had to deal with during the last night. The boy needed to acknowledge those things. "And surely there is no need to apologize for that either. Nevertheless you _did_ get lost and I wonder if the word 'cupboard' together with a whispered 'hungry', your annoying habit of apologizing, and the name of your uncle does mean anything to you?"

This time he got a reaction from the brat, even if it was not one he liked. The teenager bent forwards and placed his face into his hands, groaning with frustration and then was shaking his head.

That couldn't be. That surely wasn't happening. That surely had not happened.

He had not had one of those nightmares during which he begged his uncle to give him something to eat or to let him out of the cupboard.

He surely hadn't. And he surely had _not_ forgotten to cast a silencing spell either.

Wasn't it enough that he had fainted in Snape's quarters? In his presence? And wasn't it enough that Snape had had to carry him to bed?

No. As it seemed, it wasn't enough, he _had _to had witnessing Snape one of his nightmares too, one in which he begged, not to mention. Shaking his head again in pure frustration he did the only thing he could think of, he apologized.

"There is no need to apologize, Harry, and I do not wish you doing so for things that are not your fault." Snape growled darkly. "And having a nightmare definitely is not your fault."

"No, but I should have set up a silencing spell." Harry whispered, his eyes on his hands. He didn't want to talk about all those times he had spent in the cupboard. And he didn't want to talk about the nightmares either. And he didn't want to talk about the Dursleys at all. "I just forgot …"

"I beg your pardon?" Snape growled darkly, interrupting the teenager, his voice sounding dangerous low and his dark eyes blazed dangerously too as he interrupted the boy. Surely he had not heard the brat correctly murmuring something about silencing spells. "What did you just say, Mr. Potter?" He asked. "You surely did not mention silencing spells because of you having nightmares?"

"Uhm …" Came the unsure reply and the brat looked not only scared by his sudden anger but unsure as well. This time the 'uhm' was more a question than a statement.

"Well?" Snape asked, his growl still dark and his eyebrow raised at him, the dark eyes piercing him.

"I just forgot them, sir?" Harry asked, not sure what the older wizard meant or what he wanted to hear from him.

"Why, pray tell, Mr. Potter, would you set up silencing spells?" Snape wanted to know, his voice still dangerously low.

"Well …" Harry squirmed. "So I don't disturb everyone?"

"Correct me, if I am wrong, Mr. Potter." Snape growled, just slowly calming down. "I guess you did this before? Placing silencing spells around your bed in order to _'not disturb everyone'_ as you put it?"

The boy only nodded. Well, it not only meant that Harry had those nightmares quite often if he was used to doing so, but it also meant that he'd never had someone who really cared as there never had been someone who got him awake when having a nightmare. On the contrary. He guessed that people rather had scolded him for having nightmares, otherwise the boy would not have begun to cast those spells in the first place.

What would explain this damn need to apologize during every sentence the brat felt.

"If I ever learn that you cast silencing spells while you are down here, Mr. Potter, in order to prevent me from getting - _'disturbed'_ - then I can promise you, you will have to deal with a rather very angry Potions Master." He growled. "If you have a nightmare, then I want to know it so I can get you out of it what won't be possible if you cast silencing spells. I hope I did myself very clear, Mr. Potter." He said, finally calm enough so he could take a deep breath and add a calm "and don't apologize" after the boy nodded and then opened his mouth in order to apologize yet again.

"Good." He growled. "And now to the cupboard."

The look in Snape's dark eyes was so intense and completely unreadable, Harry couldn't help but swallow heavily. The man definitely wanted an answer and he better didn't lie to him.

"It is my room." He finally murmured, slightly bending forwards and folding his arms around his stomach. He could feel his forehead pounding with the upcoming headache he got. "They lock me in there and it's dark and stuffy and I can't breathe in there. And I can't get out either unless they let me out."

Snape watched the teen in front of him and his eyes grew even darker. The boy ran a trembling hand over his face and he clearly could see that Harry was embarrassed by telling him this.

"I … I know I'm just stupid." The brat continued. "It's just a cupboard, nothing to be afraid of. And they never locked me in there long enough for me to die. So … it's not a big deal."

"There are a lot of things in your opinion that are - _'not a big deal'_, Mr. Potter." Snape seethed, startling the teenager in front of him and he forced himself to get calm again, to not leaning closer again or pace in front of the fireplace while he felt pure rage creeping through him. He really would have to have a word with the Dursleys, and soon.

"Locking a child into a cupboard is an abominable thing to do in the first place, Mr. Potter, just in case you do not know this. And to do so until said child is hungry or can't breath makes it just the more a crime. And honestly, Harry, You are not _'stupid'_ being afraid of this place as from what I learned of your relatives up to now, it might not have been beyond them to leave you in there to die. You have every right to be afraid. You are not silly because of it and I want you to acknowledge this little fact."

The boy in front of him just nodded, still not daring to look at him and the only thing Snape could do was to give a heavy sigh away.

"Is there anything else I should know about those obnoxious relatives of yours?" He asked. "Even if it is _'not a big deal'_ as you so eloquently put it." He added when Potter just shook his head and again the headshake came.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Are you alright, Harry?" Snape asked, his voice filled with warmth he was not used from the man. "I practically can _feel_ your heart beating."

Harry wasn't even able to really describe how exactly he felt under the man's longing and possessive gaze and he simply gave a short nod away, his head lowered and uncomfortably squirming before he felt the older wizard's hand under his chin that pulled his head up gently so he had to look at him.

"You _do_ know that your squirming is quite satisfying?" Snape asked, lifting his eyebrow at him.

"My squir … ming, sir?" The teenager asked back, swallowing heavily and Snape nearly chuckled, taking a step closer when he noticed the blush that coloured the otherwise pale cheeks and he lifted his eyebrow at the teen.

"Indeed." He smirked. "Your squirming. I do enjoy making people squirm. And honestly, I easily could get used to making _you_ squirm all the time as your squirming is quite – as I said – satisfying."

The teen took a step backwards, gulping, his blush even deepening, causing Snape to enjoy the situation just the more and he could feel the excitement the brat began to feel as well. Which was to be understood, he had to admit and he took another slow step towards the teen, forcing him backwards, towards the wall step by step.

Slowly he took his brat's wrists and lifted the thin arms above the brat's head, pinning them against the wall and he leaned closer again, piercing the teen with his dark eyes, inhaling the youth's scent and enjoying the blush and the much too heavy breathing from his brat. From _his_ brat. His!

He covered the teen's neck with experimental kisses, gentle but rough at the same time, searching for that one spot that would make the brat whimper and his grip on the smaller wrists tightened while he forced his own body to keep his space to the teenager for now, not wanting to frighten him.

Harry's eyes never left Snape's as the man slowly backed him up against the wall, coming closer and closer and slightly pressing his body against his, grabbing his wrists gently but firmly and holding them above his head, pressing them against the wall in his back. He felt a weird feeling in his stomach, or below there, he wasn't entirely sure and right now he didn't even mind.

And neither did he mind that he could feel himself blushing furiously, that he had trouble breathing regularly, and he actually had to grit his teeth when Snape began to cover his neck with kisses in order to keep from making a sound. Never before had he felt such a thing, not even when he had kissed Cho last year and he closed his eyes, trying not to think what exactly his groin felt like, trying to ignore the more than pleasant squirming of his lower insides.

The Potions Master finally found the spot he had been searching for, noticing the teen he had in front of him inhaling sharply and almost growling he bit into the fleshy part between Harry's shoulder and neck, causing the younger wizard to hitch another breath, to squirm and after holding the skin between his teeth for a moment Snape released it and licked over the marks his teeth had left.

He felt himself growing hard and he had to restrain himself from pressing his body against the teen's one, knowing that he had to be slow if he didn't want to startle his brat.

"If at any time you want me to stop, you just have to say so and I will do so." He whispered, looking down into unsure but clouded green eyes before he again leaned down and placed a kiss at Harry's lips as if he had read Harry's mind, softly at first, but then more forcefully, demanding his brat to part his lips, demanding entrance with his tongue.

The teen shivered for a moment, moaning silently before he obeyed and parted his mouth and Snape took the invitation and bit the brat's bottom lip before probing his tongue into the warm cavern, his tongue caressing his brat's teeth sensually at first before he immerged deeper in his exploration.

He could tell that the boy was inexperienced in this as he didn't know how to put his lips and his tongue was moving in an awkward way while his eyes fluttered close when their kiss deepened and grew more passionate by the second while Snape tried to allow the boy to get used to the feeling.

When it became hard for them to breathe, he pulled back and watched Harry gasping for air, breathing hastily, deeply, his lips red and swollen, still slightly parted.

"I … I'm … I never before …" The boy croaked, his green eyes looking up at him unsurely.

"I know." Snape quietly said, leaning down again. "What is the exact reason as to why I am not going to touch you in any other way than what I am doing right now." He whispered, leaning closer and placing another kiss at the boy's lips, again forcing them apart and demanding entrance.

"'k." Harry hitched another breath, realizing that really the only parts of Snape touching him were his lips and his tongue and that the man's hands only touched his wrists he still held against the wall above his head in a firm and secure grip and he accepted the second kiss the man deepened yet again.

He shivered once more, silently moaning, and experimentally he thrust his tongue forward, causing Snape to growl at him in disapproval and he soon realized that he wasn't the one meant to dominate the kiss. One low growl from Snape immediately reminded him of his place, made him retreat with his own tongue, and simply allowed the older man to dominate him.

Severus Snape, Potions Master, thirty-six years old and always a dominant man when it came to sex, never mind with whom, had been unsure at first, maybe as unsure as the brat himself had been, not knowing how the teenager would react, not knowing if the teenager would reject him and not knowing if he would startle the brat. And after the boy's desperate attempts to make no sound he nearly had been about to stop his actions, feeling frustration rising in his chest, frustration at himself and frustration at the rejection he thought would take place.

But then he had felt the boy hitching a breath and he had felt him shivering with excitement, and he had known he had him where he had wanted him. The brat was aroused, he didn't even need the connection between the pendant and the ring to know this little fact and he had smirked before continuing with his ministrations.

Well, as it seemed, he was not too old to get a teenage wizard aroused and – like he now easily could feel – hard.

And the kiss too had been more than pleasant. The brat even had tried to dominate it during one point, much to his amusement, what he however soon had stopped by simply growling at him, inwardly smirking at the fact that he had not lost his touch with the brat.

He gazed down at Harry, still holding the smaller hands above the teenager's head against the wall, thus still restraining the boy who did not seem to mind it – despite the fact that he had been so afraid at the thought of being restrained during their conversations the past few days and he smirked inwardly once more. Yes, the boy was about to learn and he knew, the boy soon would get used to this.

He felt the pressure underneath his hands that still held the boy's wrists when the brat tiptoed and tried to reach upwards to place a kiss onto his lips by his own and for a short moment he lowered his head to allow a small peck before he retreated again, gazing down into the teen's face who still tried to reach him.

He simply waited until the boy gave in, in his attempts, and then he lowered his own head down to demand another kiss by his own. He repeated this each time Harry tried to initiate a kiss by his own, each time pulling back when Harry was too pushy, thus teaching him to wait expectantly and after a while the brat knew to just await the sensual exploration of the older wizard's tongue.

He leaned in and once more covered the boy's neck with rather rough kisses, nibbling at the sensitive skin, bearing his teeth into the boy's earlobes and nibbling at them, before he finally withdrew a complete step, pulling his brat with him, away from the wall and enfolding the smaller body of his submissive into his arms, his left hand resting calmly on the boy's neck while his right absent mindedly caressed the bony spine.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had ordered Harry to take a nap after lunch, knowing that the teen was tired, even if he tried to fight the tiredness, not wanting to admit to him that he had slept twice during the day back in his tower.

It had been a rather easy task getting the boy to sleep at the large and comfortable sofa, telling him that he already knew about how tired he was, about his sleeping pattern and that he wanted him to sleep if he was tired. He was down here to rest and to recover. And thus, the brat now lay on the sofa and slept.

So he now took the liberty of finally doing what he had wanted to do since Harry had come down last night and after one last glance at his sleeping brat he left his quarters and went towards his office where he called one of the house elves to order Weasley down here, inwardly smirking at the thought of what he could do to the boy.

And those thoughts went from simply giving Weasley detention for the rest of his miserable life over actually hurting him bodily and finally up to killing him. Regrettably all three possibilities were not realizable. But alone the thought of them made him smirk in satisfaction. What he had in mind instead, was enough to punish Weasley and he would not even have to sacrifice time as he easily could grade his essays during Weasley's detentions and once again he thought at his brat whom he had left behind on his sofa, sleeping.

**Flashback**

_"You really told Professor McGonagall about us?" Harry asked, suppressing a yawn, and Severus couldn't help shaking his head._

_"If my memory serves me right, and I am quite sure it does, then I told you yesterday evening that I would do__ just that, brat." He answered, lifting his eyebrow at the teen. "But as it seems, your memory does not serve you right, as I told you this morning that I indeed had informed your head of house of our relationship."_

_"And what did she say?" Harry wanted to know, ignoring the fact that he teased him – yet again – and Snape easily could see what was going through the boy's head._

_Well, a few days ago Harry would have been angry at him. But now? He seemed to know that Snape just teased him, that he did not want to really hurt him with his sarcastic remarks and __the brat seemed to wonder if it always had been this way, if he always had just teased him and if he simply never had seen it. Seemed to wonder if he had interpreted more into his words than there actually had been. _

_He surely wouldn't tell him otherwise, not yet at least. The trust his brat showed towards him was simply too fragile right now and the delicate subject of the history that had between them wouldn't help matters right now._

_"Well, I told you it is quite common and nothing would happen." Snape said, watching the boy close that seemed to be far away with his thoughts for a moment. "What should she have said? She accepted it."_

_"She did?" Harry asked, blinking at him in near shock. "Just like this?"_

_"Well, she actually needed a second glass of her Scottish whiskey to stomach the news, but yes, she did."_

_"Her Scottish whiskey?" Harry asked, now really shocked. "Professor McGonagall?"_

_"You seem to have problems hearing correctly today, Mr. Potter." Snape shook his head. "Maybe I should get you into a bath and wash your ears before you go to bed."_

_"Uhm …" Harry made, blushing furiously again at the reminder of his nibbling teeth on his ears earlier._

_"How eloquent, Mr. Potter." He drawled, his eyebrow lifted in his typical Snape-manner. _

_"Well …" Harry tried again to give an answer, without success._

_"Maybe you simply want to lay down on the sofa and have a nap? As you seem unable to articulate in your overtired state?"_

_"I'm not tired!" Harry protested and he lifted his eyebrow._

_"You look ready to drop, Potter." He growled darkly. _

_"I'm not a baby." The teen protested again. "I don't need a nap."_

_"For your information, Potter, __considering that you have had the folds of your pillow all over your face before attending your afternoon classes as well as before attending dinner in the great hall – I do know that you have slept during lunchtime and before dinner each day." Snape said in his teacher mode, his stern voice not allowing any contradictions. "And considering the state you are in, it is no wonder. Your body does not only need food but rest and sleep as well. You are here to recover in the first place. And now you either go to bed for an hour or two or you lay onto the sofa. Either way, the choice is yours."_

**End flashback**

Well, the brat had chosen the sofa and Snape hadn't had to wait long until Harry's breathing had evened out and the boy had fallen asleep. And watching him for a few more minutes, he had wondered how much sleep the brat had missed at the Dursleys. The boy definitely was exhausted. And deeply so.

He would find out more, he promised to himself. And he would do whatever it would take to help his brat to recover. And not only physically.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_One has to serve detention while the other can enjoy more than just a kiss _…

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	11. first touches

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_Well, the brat had chosen the sofa and Snape hadn't had to wait long until Harry's breathing had evened out and the boy had fallen asleep. And watching him for a few more minutes, he had wondered how much sleep the brat had missed at the Dursleys. The boy definitely was exhausted. And deeply so._

_He would find out more, he promised to himself. And he would do whatever it would take to help his brat to recover. And not only physically._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter eleven **

**First touches**

They sat in the living area again, both wizards a cup of tea in their hands, the younger one looking unsurely at the older one who had a thoughtful look in his dark eyes and the older one wondering what it was that his submissive wanted to tell him.

And Snape was sure that Potter wanted to tell him something, the obnoxious Gryffindor looked just too unsure and guilty for his liking. For a moment he wondered if he simply should ask him, but then he dismissed the thought. The brat had to learn that he had to address things by his own.

But on the other hand, maybe the boy never would do so, whatever reason for. The incident with Weasley really showed that the boy not even asked for help after he had been beaten up rather badly by his own classmate. Huffing and shaking his head he remembered the conversation he'd had with Weasley the day before.

**Flashback**

_He was sitting in his office, waiting for the red haired Gryffindor named Weasley who had attacked his submissive just because he was in a relationship with someone the same gender. Weasley should accept his friend's preferences instead of judging him. At least he should do so if he really called himself a friend._

_The soft knock on his office door made him look__ing up and after his short "enter" the door opened and Weasley stepped into the room, looking quite curious, not knowing what he might have done to be called down to the Potions Master's office._

_"Sit!" Snape growled darkly, pointing at the chair in front of his desk before he turned back towards the papers he was grading. He knew from his own experiences as a student that waiting for a punishment was worse than every punishment a teacher could come up with itself and he quite enjoyed the fear he inflicted upon the youngest Weasley by letting him wait._

_He waited a few more minutes, just continuing to grade the essay he had in front of him before he finally placed the parchment and his quill aside and glared darkly at the boy._

_"It has come to my attention, Mr. Weasley, that you have begun __showing rather violent tendencies towards your own classmates." He simply started, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of his chest, his dark eyes piercing the teenager that squirmed in his chair._

_"Uhm … well …"_

_"I would prefer it, if you would use the English language in a way that actually is to be understood, if this ability is yours to own, that is."_

_"Well, we just had a row, sir." Weasley finally said, blushing as red as was his hair._

_"A row, Mr. Weasley." Snape snarled darkly while he got to his feet and rounded his desk, leaned against the dark wood. "Considering that I actually have seen the damage you inflicted on Mr. Potter, I can assure you, it has not – only – been – a simple – row. So, kindly explain yourself."_

_"I don't understand, sir." Weasley said, causing him to nearly seethe in anger. "What is it to you? Potter and I are Gryffindors and you are the head of Slytherin."_

_"Exactly." Snape snapped at the teenager. "And no Slytherin would go against their own, Weasley. You dare to judge the Slytherins, but you do the worst crime and go against your own, you attack and you hurt your own. And not only a fellow student of your own house, but your own friend no less. So I ask you again to explain yourself!"_

_"Well, I still don't see what it's to you. Professor McGonagall is head of Gryffindor and Potter and I are both Gryffindors."_

_"I would be a bit more thoughtful with your answers if I were you, Weasley." Snape leaned closer, both his hands resting on the armrests of the chair Weasley was sitting in and currently pressing his back into the backrest of the furniture. "It might be that you find yourself in quite more trouble than you already are in. And now answer my question!"_

_"Well, Potter__'s just disgusting and I just don't want to be his friend anymore." Weasley finally answered. "It's my own business whom I befriend and whom not."_

_"And pray tell, Mr. Weasley, what has Mr. Potter done to warrant your abandonment of his friendship?" Snape asked with a deathly glare at the teen before he leaned back onto the desk again, his arms folded in front of his chest._

_But no answer came._

_"Well, Mr. Weasley, let me assure you, I already do know what has been the reason for your … display of gracious behaviour you have bestowed upon Mr. Potter."_

_Again Weasley gave no answer._

_"Mr. Potter entered a relationship with another male, a relationship in which he has overtaken the submissive part and thus belongs to a __Master as you quite correctly noticed upon seeing the pendant Mr. Potter wore." He said, barely controlling his anger. "You do not seem to know however what exactly this little fact means."_

_"Well, it means that he has made himself a slave to another boy to be beaten and to be taken, and as he has done so by free will, it means that he likes to be handled __like that." Weasley said, his face showing his disgust._

_"First, Mr. Weasley." Snape snarled in anger. "Even if Mr. Potter had chosen such a relationship, then it would be none of your business and it surely would not give you the right to beat him for such. Your display of manners has been even worse than what you accuse Mr. Potter or his partner of. Second, your education in pure blood standards lacks a bit of information what however is no news to me as you refuse to learn even that which you would need for your future __education. So why should you bother with learning anything more than you actually would have to."_

_He sneered for a moment, still glaring at the stupid boy._

_"And finally, Mr. Weasley." He then continued. "If you had leaned anything about pureblood standards correctly, then you would have known that Mr. Potter is in an educational relationship, which is a quite honourable one for both participants, for the submissive part as well as for the dominating part. The dominating part never would hurt his submissive and the dominating part takes over in teaching his submissive every aspects of life. It is a relationship that is accepted all over the wizarding world."_

_"But … but that would mean that Potter is in a relationship with someone much older than him." Weasley chocked out, sounding shocked._

_"Indeed." Snape growled darkly. _

_"But … but it has to be a Slytherin!" Weasley again chocked out, his face going pale. "As only the Slytherins use such relationships and pure blood crap."_

_"Indeed__." Snape growled again. "It is a Slytherin. Even if you should recognize that not only the Slytherin pure bloods partake in educational relationships but that other houses has pure blood wizards and witches as well who form such old and traditional bonds."_

_"But … but that would mean …" Weasley stuttered, going even more pale. "Wait a moment. Potter isn't in a relationship with one of your Slytherins, but with you!"_

_"Indeed." Snape growled a third time. "Be assured however, even if you only would have hurt the submissive of one of my Slytherins, you would be in quite some trouble. As you however have hurt my submissive, you are in quite a lot of trouble, Mr. Weasley."_

_Giving a satisfied smirk away he watched the youngest Weasley gulping nervously._

_"Have you ever heard of the Norwegian fire salamander?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow upon Weasley's headshake. Of course Weasley never had, what had been the reason __as to why he had not made it into his NEWT potions class. Well, the red head wouldn't be free of potions this year, as it seemed._

_"Then consider yourself luckily that you will learn about those animals during your detentions for the next two weeks until I have other pleasant potions ingredient I need to be prepared." He sneered. "Be assured however, that you will find yourself down here for the remainder of the year. Tuesdays and Thursdays, at seven o'clock sharp."_

_"But there is Quidditch training on Tuesday evenings." Weasley gasped._

_"I do hope that you are not stupid enough to consider me changing the schedule for your detentions, Mr. Weasley." Snape said, his dark eyes cold and unforgiving. "Because if you are, then we all should reconsider your intelligence and ability to attend a school like Hogwarts. Your detention will start tomorrow evening, Mr. Weasley, and you better be on time."_

**End flashback**

"Uhm … sir?" Potter asked upon coming back from the bathroom and the Potions Master looked over at the boy who stood behind one of the armchairs, leaning his lower arms onto the backrest, the boy who still didn't dare to use his given name yet. Well, the brat would get used to, eventually, and until then he would have to accept the boy calling him 'sir' instead of 'Severus' for a bit longer.

"Yes?" He asked, curiously lowering his head to one side and watching the teenager that blushed furiously. He wondered what the boy had in his mind that would cause such a delicious blush.

"Uhm … well … I mean … I just wanted to ask …"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" He asked, one eyebrow lifted at the teen that gulped nervously and he had to hide a smirk, the boy's blushing and gulping causing his lower insides to stir pleasantly.

"I just wanted to ask … well … we stopped speaking about … uhm … BDSM … and I wondered if there were more things."

Yes, he had thought that _that _it had been what had caused the blush, and Snape nearly smirked.

"Actually, we still have to cover the sessions themselves." He answered, satisfied with the fact that Potter had asked to continue the conversation about this by himself and he stood up and walked over to the boy.

"BDSM actions usually take place during a specific period of time agreed to by both parties as you already know. They are referred to as 'a game', 'a scene' or 'a session'." He said, thinking for a moment, wondering if he could dare to take this further. "The interaction between top and bottom where physical and, or mental control of the bottom is surrendered to the top is known as power exchange. The bottom simply exchanges his power to the top for the duration of the session. Consent is the most important criterion here, as I already have expressed to you quite a few times."

Potter had watched him, was now standing in front of him, facing him, and slowly he extended his hand and gently gripped the boy's bony shoulder, kept him in place while he stepped behind him.

"Close your eyes and feel, Harry." Snape commanded sedately. There was a moment of hesitance but before he thought of repeating his words in a more commanding way he felt the boy obeying him, felt the slight fear that increased a bit and he ran his hand over the boy's neck, shoulders and back.

Harry felt the shivers running all the way down his spine with the velvet like voice. He wasn't really cold, on the contrary, he felt rather warm, considering that he normally was quite cold, but he meanwhile knew it was excitement mixed with anticipation and a little nervousness. And suddenly he understood what Snape had tried to tell him all the times.

He stood there his arms lowered at his sides and he closed his eyes. He could feel Snape behind him and even though he knew he was there, he quivered when he felt the first contact on his neck, on his shoulders and on his back.

"On a physical level, BDSM is not only connected to the infliction of physical pain and suffering but other intense sensations too." He said while at the same time he conjured a black fabric which he placed upon Harry's eyes. The brat flinched and wanted to turn, but again he gripped his shoulder to keep him in place, harder this time to indicate him he had to stay in this position and he covered the teen's eyes with the fabric.

"Strict organized sexual rejection used on the partner can be an aspect of dominance and submission as well, by the way." He continued his explanations while he finished the knot on the back of Potter's head. "But normally in BDSM sessions, the top exposes the bottom to a wide range of sensual impressions, like for example pinching, biting, scratching, spanking or the use of various objects such as blindfolds, clamps, whips, liquid wax, ice cubes, or others." He rounded the smaller teen until he stood in front of him, watching the slight trembling of his brat and even with the blindfold over the teen's eyes he could see the fearful tension in the boy's face.

"You do know, Harry, you only have to say your safeword and I will stop." He said, waiting until the boy gave him a hesitant nod before he continued. "Good. Fixation by handcuffs, ropes or chains may be used as well. The repertoire of possible toys is limited only by the imagination of both partners."

He lifted his hands and placed them on the boy's shoulders again, frowning for a moment at the flinch he again got from the teen, but then he slowly shoved the smaller wizard backwards until he had him pinned against the wall beside the fireplace and with a smirk he remembered the day before while gripping the boy's wrists in a firm grip and lifting them, just like he had done last time, over the teen's head, held them to the wall in the boy's back firmly and thus his brat secured and in place in front of him.

Harry felt the wall in his back and again he was unable to suppress the flinch that escaped him. He felt his wrists being taken into a firm grip and lifted above his head, pinned to the wall in his back, and he couldn't help hitching a breath. He had been in the same position just the day before and he had to admit that it had felt more pleasant than what he ever could have thought possible. But yesterday he had not had his eyes blindfolded, yesterday he had been able to see what Snape had done.

"How do you feel?" Snape wanted to know of him, but he didn't know the answer, he didn't know what he felt, didn't know how to describe what he felt and he lowered his head, shaking it at the same time. He felt the older wizard's hand under his chin, pushing his head up and he wanted nothing more than to see the man's face.

Snape easily could see that Potter was at a loss for words and he grabbed both of the boy's wrists in one hand, the small and thin wrists easily fitting in one of his hands, and he placed the fingers of his now free hand under the boy's chin, gently pushed the teen's head up so he could look into the pale face, studying the tense line around the nose, the mouth, the forehead and even without looking into the blind folded eyes of his submissive he could detect the signs of fear, uncertainty and tension.

"Start with how it feels." He said in a low voice, trying to keep the boy calm. He knew that something was wrong, that something was not as it should be with a boy Harry's age and he knew that he had to be careful and slow, patient. "Does it feel good? Or bad? Are you – afraid?"

Harry thought the question over.

The warm hand that was encircling his wrists in a secure grip, the warm fingers resting against the flesh of his chin was not taking anything from him, and neither did it do anything to him, it was not hurting him. On the contrary. The hand was giving something to him with each small touch and with each caress that felt like a tiny miracle. It gave something to him, something that was kindness, that was care and that was gentleness, something he had craved for, for his entire life.

But he couldn't see the man's face. He couldn't see his eyes, and he had no way of telling what the man in front of him felt, if he was pleased, if he was disappointed or if he was even angry. And most importantly, he couldn't see what the man did with his hands. He could feel his hands, on his wrists and on his chin, but he couldn't see them.

"I don't know." He nearly chocked out.

Accepting the answer for now, knowing that he wouldn't get another one, Snape leaned close.

"If at any time you want me to stop, you just have to say so and I will _do_ stop." He whispered into his brat's ear, again causing the boy's strands of black hair that hang loosely above the blindfold to slightly move, again causing the boy to shiver slightly.

He could see the brat trying and suppress his shivers, just as he had done earlier and just as he had done the day before when he had kissed him for the first time. Potter tried with every ounce of his strength and will to suppress his shivers, to control his ragged and much too quick breathing, and to hold back his moans of pleasure he felt. The sudden thought struck him, and not for the first time, that the boy not only tried to hide what he felt, but that he tried to avoid feeling at all.

"Individual tastes and preferences in the area of sexuality may overlap among all those terms containing BDSM." He continued, his voice dark and deep, a soft purr that made his brat shivering again and he smirked. "And nevertheless BDSM definitely includes psychological and physiological facets, a wide spectrum of activities and forms of interpersonal preferences that differ from conventional activities and relationships and there is almost nothing which unites all the disparate subcultures in this universe which are grouped under the umbrella term BDSM."

He ran his hand over the boy's neck, over his throat, his collarbone and the boy's shiver increased while his breathing became irregular once again, his head lowered to one side in concentration onto his voice, now that he wasn't able to see what he did.

"And nevertheless quite a lot of aspects do overlap with common sexual activities." He whispered into the boy's ears, causing the boy to give another violent shiver away, to hitch a breath. "Just think of this blindfold. It is common to use such within BDSM related activities, and nevertheless quite a lot of people who prefer conventional activities during sex, even despise BDSM related activities, use a blindfold and consider it as quite stimulating and pleasant."

While watching the boy in front of him he actually had to close his eyes for a moment to ensure that he would keep himself under control before he leaned forwards and covered the side of the neck the boy had exposed while tilting his head to the other side with small kisses before he bit the side of Harry's exposed neck, causing the younger man to whimper in a mixture of pain and pleasure. It was a small noise only, one however that only hardened Severus further and he again closed his eyes while he ran his hands over the boy's upper arm, his shoulder and his neck and he noticed that his own fingers trembled slightly.

"All parties involved usually derive pleasure from this, even though many of the practices that are performed, such as inflicting pain, humiliation or being restrained would be considered unpleasant under normal circumstances." He continued to whisper into the young wizard's ear, enjoying the signs of excitement and fear his brat gave away, enjoying the pleasure he himself felt. "Sometimes BDSM practitioners even take part in a session for which they do not receive any personal gratification. They enter such situations solely with the intention to allow their partners to fulfil their own needs only."

Again he lowered his head and bit the boy's neck, causing another small whimper to escape the slightly trembling teenager he had pinned against the wall in front of him and he would have liked nothing more than to take this delicious young and unbearable responsive body right here and now. But he knew it would destroy everything if he would give in to his own needs right now.

"It is, however, important to know that a pleasurable BDSM experience during a session is very strongly dependent upon the competence and experience of the top, and the physical and mental state of the bottom at the time of the session." He whispered, nibbling on the boy's earlobes. "Trust and sexual arousal might help the partners to enter a shared mindset, but nevertheless each time would be different, never mind how often a setting is repeated. And while the submissive might be stimulated by a good spanking during one evening, he might be in actual pain by the same spanking during another one."

He still held the boy's both wrists in a secure grip above his head with one strong hand, while he reached up with his other and carded his fingers through Harry's hair, losing himself in the feeling of the inky black silk for a moment until he felt the boy slightly relaxing under his touch.

For a brief moment, after Snape's hand had found its way to card through his hair he lowered it and ran it in between the wall and the small of his brat's back, feeling the tense muscles before he again slowly started to make his way up Harry's back, until it once more came to rest in his brat's hair.

The older wizard again buried his hand in the teen's messy hair, slowly gripping it firmly and then pulling Harry's head back roughly as he initiated a kiss, his mouth covering the boy's one demanding, dominating and willingly Harry opened his lips to accept Snape's tongue to enter, to explore and to dominate him.

Releasing the boy's hair he slowly ran his hand down over the side of the soft skin covering Harry's face, his still slightly trembling fingertips softly touching the warm skin until his hand came to rest over his brat's throat and with a firm grip but without applying any pressure his fingers slowly curled around the delicate throat, thus shoving his brat's head up further and keeping it in place securely while he intensified the kiss.

The boy he had in front of him hitched another breath, then another one, and he could feel how he struggled to keep not only the fear but the pleasure he felt away too.

"Do not do this, brat!" He growled darkly his lips barely releasing the boy's lips and he nearly chuckled at the startled flinch and the tilting of the boy's head while Potter tried to figure out what exactly he meant and if he was angry and if, then _how_ angry he was. Yes, it was a really pleasant thing to have a young submissive with a blindfold covering his eyes and restrained in front of him, even if he was only restrained by his hands.

"Do not hide your emotions, Potter!" He explained, his voice deep, dark and soft. "Not from me! I am your Master and I want to know what you feel. I want to see what you feel and I want to hear what you feel. Never hide your emotions from me. Not your pain, not your fear and not your pleasure! Is - that - understood?"

The boy barely was able to nod, too far gone for a coherent answer and even too far gone for giving an answer at all and for a moment Snape actually wondered if it might be the first time that the brat felt pleasure like this. Potter had been together with Chang last year, but it had been one kiss, the brat had told him, one kiss during which Chang had cried over Diggory. Otherwise the boy hadn't been in any relationship and he doubted that the brat had been touched by someone else in such a way ever.

But surely the boy had been horny before and surely he had taken care of his own needs before by his own. It was what boy's Potter's age did. Indeed it was what boy's did as soon as they were starting to become teenagers.

But still the boy struggled to keep his moans and whimpers under control, to keep his struggling under control, his squirming, to keep his feelings under control and with a new fire in his dark eyes he softly stroke his thumb over the soft skin of the boy's throat adding another sensation upon his brat until he actually could feel that the boy wasn't able to keep the pleasure away any longer and the soft moans and whimpers changed into a small sob of despair.

For one short moment he wondered why in Merlin's name the boy would refuse to feel the pleasure washing over him, but then he released the boy's throat and instead leaned his hand against the wall beside Harry's head and drew back a bit. He watched his brat close while he allowed him to get his emotions back under control, watching for any signs of an emotional breakdown so he could at once take actions to calm the boy, or if he could allow him to get himself under control on his own.

And the boy was close to an emotional breakdown, he knew, and he readied himself to take his brat into his arms and to comfort him if necessary. But if he interfered now, if he would try to calm the boy now, then he surely would break down completely. If he waited, the boy most probably would be fine in a minute or two and by himself. Narrowing his eyes for a moment he wondered why he had not used his safeword. And why the boy had refused to feel, what had led to upset him in the first place when he had forced him to feel.

When he felt the boy calming down and Harry's breathing slowed down a bit he slowly released the thin wrists he still held pinned towards the wall with one hand and then he reached behind the boy's head, pulling the head towards him until his brat rested with his forehead against his chest and he opened the knot of the blindfold, allowed the boy to use his hands and to open his eyes.

He pulled away so he could look into his submissive's eye. The teen was flushed and his eyes were wary, unsure, like he expected Severus to either push him away disgusted or to attack him at any moment. Instead Severus continued to stare into the glazed green eyes before he closed the distance again and pressed a light kiss against Harry's lips to show him he was pleased with him.

He held out his hand, palm up, offering the teen to take it, but still Harry only watched him warily and he had to suppress a sigh.

"If we want this relationship to work, and we do want this, I guess, then you first will have to learn touching me." He said, initiating a touch by himself by taking Harry's smaller hand in his own and running his thumb over the back of his brat's hand. "You will have to learn and relax and you will have to learn and trust me. And you will have to learn to touch me as well as I touch you. This is no one-way road."

He pulled the teenager from the wall and considering it safe to finally give a comforting touch without having the brat breaking down he placed his hand on the bony shoulder and guided him back to the sofa.

"You might be my submissive, Harry, but remember what I told you, we are equals." He said, sitting down and pulling the smaller wizard against his side, slipping his arm around the small form until the boy's head rested upon his chest. "While I won't accept you showing any domination during sexual activities, you nevertheless have the right to initiate a touch or anything else you wish to initiate. I even require it from you. You are not my slave, Harry. You have the same right to touch me as I have to touch you. And here I am not your teacher who requires distance, but here I am your senior partner who requires closeness."

"Yes, sir." Potter answered, his voice soft, barely audible. "Sorry, sir."

"Whatever for, brat?" Snape asked, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer. Not now at least. The boy still was too upset and too deep under for giving a strait answer. And just as he had known, the boy shrugged his shoulders and sighed heavily in his arms.

"Care for a cup of tea and a sandwich, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his tone of voice sarcastic. "Or would you prefer to have lunch in the great hall?"

"Uhm … definitely not the great hall." The brat answered and Snape barely could suppress his smirk.

"I thought so." He said, releasing the teenager and he got to his feet.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry leaned his head back against the backrest of the sofa and sighed in frustration when Snape had left for the small kitchen to order sandwiches and tea. What was it with him that he felt so much in the man's presence? He shouldn't feel so much and so deeply. It wasn't right and it wasn't his place either. He knew it. It was just wrong.

And nevertheless he felt each time this man touched him, each time, even if he wasn't able to describe what exactly it was he felt, not even to himself. He felt like burning and freezing at the same time while his insides squirmed nearly painfully and to a point where his heart threatened to jump out of his chest and he felt he couldn't breathe.

Slipping his hand downwards to his still throbbing member he touched the fabric of his trousers for a moment. He surely wouldn't do _that_, and surely not right now and not here either, but he just had to do _something_ to get the throbbing and the pulsating and the tightness away and he hoped that a simple touch would ease it a bit.

"You are not to touch yourself!" Snape's dark growl only inches away from his ear startled him and nearly made him jump and he turned his face to look into a pair of dark eyes that pierced him sternly, the man extending his hand to take his chin into a firm grip. "Only I do, is that understood?"

Of course Snape wouldn't forbid the brat to touch himself. All teenagers did. And he surely could do so in his room or in the bathroom, but he wouldn't allow him to do so in his presence. If his brat wanted relief, then he would have to address _him_ and he gladly would tend to the boy's – problems. But he wouldn't allow his young submissive to touch himself in front of him! Even if he knew that right now the boy wouldn't ask him for such. They hadn't done anything else than kissing up to now. The boy surely wouldn't be ready for such yet.

And nevertheless he wouldn't allow Harry to relieve himself in his presence. Growling deeply in his throat and curling his hand around the back of the boy's neck so he couldn't draw away, gripping the boy's neck probably hard enough to bruise, he leaned down to give Harry a harsh, urgent, and demanding kiss, knowing that he was more harsh than was necessary, but he didn't care and again he enjoyed the soft whimper he caused. He smirked at the knowledge that this kiss indeed did nothing to relieve the boy's surely throbbing member.

Running his free hand down the boy's neck and over his chest he easily found what he was searching for and first ran his finger over the boy's left nipple, inwardly cursing at the soft fabric of the shirt between the piece of flesh he intended to torture a bit and his fingers, causing the teat to harden and the boy to shiver before he grabbed the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinched, hard, causing the boy to whimper and to arch his back for a moment before he had himself back under control and without lessening the pressure he twisted the hard nipple between his fingers for a few moments more before he released it.

"What did I tell you about hiding your pain and pleasure from me, Mr. Potter?" He teased, as Harry tried to suppress another whimper, running his hand to the teen's other nipple. Again he grabbed the teat, pinched it hard and twisted it even longer than the first one, before he released it again, suppressing the feeling of disappointment as the teenager yet again tried to control his responses to the sexual stimulation.

"Do you want to know what I am going to do to you next time you show such behaviour like touching yourself in front of me ever again?" Severus asked into the boy's ear. "I'm going to fix you down to the bed and get rid of this shirt of yours." He threatened without waiting for the boy's answer, feeling the teen's shiver underneath him. "Then I am going to play with those delicate nipples of yours, without this piece of fabric between your flesh and my hands, I will twist them and pinch them, until you can't think straight and whimper with need, until I have you begging for more."

Pulling away after a few moments he cupped Harry's face. "If you have a problem, Mr. Potter, then you will ask for my help," He said in a low and nearly threatening voice, piercing the boy sharply with his dark eyes while hoping that the boy wouldn't misunderstand his harsh tone. He wanted to inflict slight anxiety but not fear. "But – never – ever – again – touch yourself – in my presence. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." The boy croaked out, his voice rough and again his breathing came in gasps and pants, the green eyes far too expressive and clearly showing what the boy felt right now.

"Good." Snape growled, straightening himself. "_Do_ you have a problem?" He then asked.

"No sir." The brat shook his head, blushing the darkest red he ever had seen on the boy's face and he lifted his eyebrow to suppress a smirk. "I just will take a cold shower, sir."

"You won't take a shower right now, Mr. Potter." The Potions Master said, smirking evilly, enjoying the silent groan of frustration his brat gave away. "Lunch is ready." He added, extending his hand into the direction of the kitchen, inviting the teenager to go ahead and knowing well what he condemned the boy to. "You may shower after lunch."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Lunch had not been an easy affair.

Harry had shivered each time his mind had played out exactly _what_ Snape had been saying to him earlier and he had felt his insides squirm each time his mind had played out the scene, had felt his erection to twitch each time in his pants and every so often he'd had to suppress a small whimper that threatened to escape his throat whenever he had cast a quick glance at the Potions Master sitting opposite him, noticing the knowing smirk the man had had on his face and at the same time cursing the man for his coldness and calmness. How could Snape sit there without being affected at all? Didn't the man feel anything? Considering the smirk Snape threw towards him every now and then, he knew exactly what he, Harry, felt. But didn't this all affect the man too? How could he be so damn calm?

Snape on the other hand had been watching his brat squirming in his chair, shivering every now and then, his hands trembling slightly and his face a furious blush. The small, red tongue that had darted out to nervously wet dry lips had been just as deliciously as had been each and every sign of his brat's arousal the boy had given away while he had tried – and failed miserably – to keep himself as still as possible. It had been a sight that surely had done nothing to ease his _own_ arousal and he had known the torture he had inflicted upon his brat had been the same he himself had felt. But he nevertheless had enjoyed it like seldom anything in his life before.

It had felt right.

It had felt perfect.

And he had known that this simply was meant to be.

Harry had taken his shower after lunch, after Snape finally had allowed him to get off the table – and he was sure that Snape had kept him there longer than had been necessary – and now he was sitting curled up in his usual armchair, waiting for Snape to come back from his own shower.

Snape had told him to shower and to dress properly as they were to go to London this afternoon and now his trainers waited beside the armchair and his cloak was laying over the backrest while he briefly wondered what they would do in London before his thoughts went back to the man himself.

Snape had hated him for years, but now there was something absolute different. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't hate, that much he knew. The man was simply an absolute enigma to him and he was sure he never would figure it out. Not without gaining himself a severe headache at least.

Whenever Snape moved, then he did so with grace and fluidity. Sometimes moving in near slow motion, his movements like that of a cat. Ok, a rather large cat, like a lion maybe, he thought. But then – no, Snape surely would curse him to Mars and back if he compared him with a lion. So maybe rather a black panther as the man wore only black clothes anyway. But sometimes he moved so quickly one barely had time to do anything to brace himself for the man's approach, not even taking one breath.

His long and slender fingers were so agile that Harry was often astonished at the speed with which they handled potions ingredients while at the same time, his fingers could be deliberately relaxed, moving slowly over the spines of books – or his, Harry's body – he thought, again shivering at the reminder of what those hands had done to him earlier, not daring to imagine what it would feel like, having those hands – like the man had promised – on his bare skin without his shirt between his skin and the Potions Master's hands.

Harry often caught a restless gleam in the man's black eyes, hinting at the equally restless mind behind them while at other times the same dark eyes were calm and steady and velvet black orbs in which he could get lost, which always seemed to calm him nowadays, which were not as unforgiving, harsh and cold as he always had thought them to be, while at the same time they even seemed to have become darker than they had been during all the years before since he first had seen his teacher.

And the man's voice, Merlin! This voice seemed to drive him into madness lately whenever Snape said something, anything to him and he had to concentrate to actually listen to the words the man said instead of just drowning in this voice. Dark, deep, soft and velvet, like a silken veil, cold and piercing sometimes, dripping with sarcasm, and warm and soft on other times, calming and soothing him, his nerves, his worries, whatever.

Sometimes a rash of words, even ignoring the full stop at the end of a sentence as if even grammar rules had to bend to his will and sometimes speaking slowly and punctuating each word he said.

He slowly was becoming familiar with such small characteristic traits and habits of the man and today he had discovered that Snape not only was quite possessive and dominant over him, even protective, but that he also could be more passionate than he ever had thought it possible.

"I see you have done what you were told for once in your life, Mr. Potter, and have waited here." Snape's silky voice got him out of his thoughts and he looked up at the man who stood there in black Jeans, a black shirt and a black cardigan instead of his cloak.

"If I had known that sexual stimulation is what it took for you to pay attention then I would have changed my tactics years ago when you had your first potions lesson." Snape gave a smirk, lifting his eyebrow at the brat that looked him over as if he never before had seen someone wearing Jeans, a shirt and a cardigan and he tilted his head to one side at the blush that once again washed over the young face of his brat.

If the boy continued like this, then his entire life would be one arousal, honestly. Teenagers!

"Are you ready to leave?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." Potter answered, getting up from the armchair and slipping into the worn out trainers before grabbing his cloak from the backrest.

"Did you think I dressed in a cardigan instead of my usual cloak out of fun, Mr. Potter?" He asked teasingly. "Or maybe to try a new wardrobe?"

"Uhm …" Harry made and he had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

"Bring your cloak back into your room and get your jacket."

"Uhm … well …" Potter stammered and he lifted his eyebrow at the teen before he understood and growling in anger he turned back into his own bedroom.

The boy had no jacket.

And he had no jacket because the adults he had been living with simply had not bothered to provide the boy with proper clothing. What had been the reason as to why he had decided to take the boy to London today in the first place. To go shopping, as he had noticed the boy wearing either his school uniform – which he definitely preferred – or ragged clothes hidden beneath his cloak, old rags that seemed to not only have him uncomfortable but right out embarrassed.

Seething in anger he opened his wardrobe and got out a cardigan similar to his own, only slightly warmer and with a collar that hopefully would keep the always freezing boy warm during their outing. It was not winter yet but September this year was a rather cold one. The cardigan had a zipper in front instead of the buttons his own one had and there was a small green s included into the left front. The boy hopefully wouldn't mind.

There had been a time when he wouldn't even have soiled his cloak with Harry's blood if the boy would have been lying on the floor and bleeding to death, and now he was sharing his wardrobe with the brat.

Well, no. that wasn't entirely correct. Never mind what feelings he'd had towards that boy in the past, but he never had wanted him dead and yes, if he was honest with himself, then he would have to admit that he _would_ have soiled his cloak with the boy's blood if he would have been lying on the floor and bleeding to death. Only that he would have done more than that, he knew. Even back then he would have done all in his power to keep the brat safe and alive.

But now – now even the thought of the boy being neglected hurt him, the thought of the boy not even owning a jacket and other proper clothing hurt him and his thumb ran over the material of the wool for a moment, lost in thought, before he gritted his teeth and left his sleeping chamber.

The cardigan would be a bit too large for the boy and he would have to roll up the sleeves, but again – the boy hopefully wouldn't mind.

Stepping back into the living area he found Potter still standing beside the armchair where he had left him, looking for all the world lost and frightened like a small child, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of the cloak he still was holding and his green eyes unsure and troubled. He stopped for a moment and watched the anxious and unsure teenager, reminding himself to suppress his anger that wasn't directed at the boy anyway but which the boy would notice if not kept at bay before he quickly crossed the room, ignoring the teen's flinch and ignoring the step the teen took backwards for a moment.

He watched the boy for a second or two longer with his dark and right now severe eyes, before he extended his hand and gently took the mistreated cloak from the boy's hands. He enjoyed it when the boy was slightly anxious, yes, when he was nervous, when he was squirming under his gaze. But not like this. Not like this lost and troubled unsureness. He did not like the boy fearing him.

Wordlessly he placed his brat's cloak back over the backrest of the armchair where it had been laying earlier and held the cardigan out so the boy could slip into the sleeves and then he simply placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder and wordlessly led him out of his private quarters, through the dungeons and out of the castle to the apparition point behind the gates.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_A day in London_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	12. Diagon Alley

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_He watched the boy for a second or two longer with his dark and right now severe eyes, before he extended his hand and gently took the mistreated cloak from the boy's hands. He enjoyed it when the boy was slightly anxious, yes, when he was nervous, when he was squirming under his gaze. But not like this. Not like this lost and troubled unsureness._

_Wordlessly he held the cardigan out so the boy could slip into the sleeves and then he simply placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder and wordlessly led him out of his private quarters, through the dungeons and out of the castle to the apparition point behind the gates._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter twelve **

**Diagon Alley**

He had known that Harry most likely wouldn't take it that well if he went with him into a shop for clothes right away, still remembering the shame and guilt he had felt coming from the brat after he had given him the cardigan, and so he had taken him into the supermarket first. He needed to restock his kitchen supplies anyway.

But right now he wondered if this really had been the right decision and he had to admit that he was more than just annoyed. They only had entered the supermarket a few minutes ago and he already wondered if he really should have taken Potter to muggle London for shopping, the boy working his way through the supermarket in a zigzag pattern.

"Tea will be in the next row, Potter." He said, pointing to the row he knew he would find the required sorts of tea. Yes, he quite often went shopping in this special supermarket, knowing that he wouldn't find everything he wanted to buy in wizarding London – and surely not his favourite blend of tea.

The boy in front of him nodded, his eyes scanning the area, Snape noticed, wondering why the brat constantly did so since the moment they had entered and he sighed at the thought that he practically had had to shove the teen in front of him in order to keep him from shuffling along behind him while he followed the boy who went towards the destined row of shelves.

But Harry suddenly stopped and Snape nearly ran into him – not for the first time, that was, and he was lifting his eyebrow at the teenager who stood there frowning, nearly looking afraid, but before he could have said anything the boy had turned and went to the next row of shelves to his left.

Snape blinked at the teen in confusion. The tea they needed was in this corridor Harry just had abandoned. Yet – well, he followed him into the next one, what could he do otherwise? They were in muggle London, yes, but he nevertheless didn't want to leave the boy out of his eyesight. Even here, there might be some Death Eaters around, never mind how small the chances were. And he didn't want to take any risks, never mind how unlikely those risks might be.

The teenager turned into this parallel corridor and went along the shelves without looking at them until he had reached the end of it and then he turned to his right and – Severus narrowed his eyes in confusion – Harry went into the corridor with the tea they wanted, he went into this row of shelves just from the other side, from the far end of it.

"Why the larger road, Potter?" Snape drawled, still annoyed, startling the teenager who jumped nearly a foot into the air and closed his eyes for a moment in relief when he recognized the Potions Master standing beside him.

The younger wizard just shrugged his shoulders and Snape could see tiredness in the teen's green eyes. Tiredness and a fear that had nothing to do with their relationship, it was a real fear, one that he could feel coming from the boy, and one he didn't like at all.

Well, they got the tea and then went back to the main corridor to get the cereals Harry always had at breakfast.

Yet again, after pointing at the line of shelves where they would get them, the boy stopped like dead in his steps, before he turned and went to the next corridor and again Snape followed him, shaking his head in annoyance and confusion. What was this insufferable, insolent little brat playing at? Well, no – the brat didn't play at anything, that much was sure, even if he didn't know why the younger wizard was behaving in such a strange and definitely annoyingly way, he knew that he didn't play at anything. So – what in Merlin's name was the teen's problem?

He was about to follow Harry into this row, preparing himself to get along it to the end just to reach the one with the cereals from the other side, but he nearly ran into the boy again and he growled darkly. What was it now?

"What is it now, Potter?" He asked, watching the teenager and noticing slight signs of panic and despair on the boy's pale and tired face, in the much too large green eyes, while he stared into the small corridor and he narrowed his eyes at him. He looked into the corridor himself, but there was noting wrong. Shelves lined both sides, with jam, chocolate cream and peanut butter on one side and with toast, rolls and bread on the other side. A young man was grabbing a glass of jam while an older woman studied the different sorts of toast. There was nothing on the floor and the corridor wasn't blocked either. There was absolutely nothing wrong.

The teenager however didn't answer and just shook his head while turning on his heels, quickly walking back to the corridor with the cereals. Harry quickly peered into it but then crossed the line of shelves and approached the next one on the other side and Snape again narrowed his eyes at the sigh of relief the boy gave away while finally turning into this corridor and hurrying along the shelves without paying attention to them until – again he reached the end and then turned left and approached the shelves that held the cereals, again from the far end, finally turning into this corridor.

They got the cereals they needed and again the brat turned on his heels, seemingly about to go back to the main corridor, but again while going the long road, the box with cereals cradling tightly to his chest as if this box could safe his life. But this time Snape was prepared and he remained standing where he was, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders to keep him in place.

"Potter!" Snape snapped, feeling the slight trembling of the boy's shoulders, seeing the disturbed look in the teen's eyes, and noticing the brat jumping nearly out of his pants at the touch this time. "This way, Potter!" He sternly said, pointing towards the main corridor that lay just ahead of them. "I won't have you leading me through this place while walking detours over detours."

"But … there's someone standing over there." The teen stated, hesitantly, unsurely, his voice small.

"And this is a problem?" Snape asked confused and annoyed, and – he had to admit – a bit worried. "You surely will not disturb the woman if you pass her."

He thought over the past few minutes and the teenager's strange behaviour he had watched and he recognized that actually the boy had chosen his way completely avoiding – and successfully so, he had to admit – any human contact. The boy actually had went into the next row – sometimes even into the next after that one, or two corridors back – whenever someone had been standing in the row of shelves they needed something from and thus his line of path had been a rather uncoordinated one, a zigzagging one and slowly the Potions Master began to understand. Harry avoided the people wherever he could.

Tightening his grip on Harry's shoulder Snape directed him in a straight line towards the main corridor and he felt the reluctance in the brat's steps, the stiffening in the already tense shoulders of the teenager to a point where he thought that the little muscles that were there would snap at any moment. The boy even seemed to struggle for a moment when he led him past the woman that didn't even pay any attention to them, that was no danger to them, and he had to strengthen his grip on his shoulder even more then to keep him from breaking away and turning right away for the longer way over the parallel corridor.

What in Merlin's name was wrong with that boy? What did the boy fear? They were simply shopping!

Honestly, he was an attentive and a careful man and he knew it, but Harry right now would make even Mad Eye Moody being jealous of his ability to show 'constant vigilance'.

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Leading Harry into the Jeans shop Snape hoped that there wouldn't be too much people in there and he nearly gave a sigh of relief when he noticed that the shop was indeed empty of human beings aside from the shop owner that greeted him with an inclining of his head as he always did when he bought some muggle clothing here.

"Ah, Mr. Snape." The young man said. "How might I be of help today? I didn't expect you back so soon."

"I am not here for myself this time." Snape answered, his hand still on Harry's shoulder, the boy looking up at him curiously. Maybe because he had been greeted with Mr. instead of Professor, or maybe because he had told the shop owner that he wasn't here for himself this time. He hadn't yet told Potter of his intention for today after all. "We are here for this young man here, Mr. Alison."

"Oh, well." The young man smiled at Harry and Snape had to keep from growling darkly at him. "And what can I do for this young man?"

"We simply will browse through your shop a bit by our own." Snape said, sure that Harry only would feel uncomfortable with the young Alison hovering over their necks – not to mention that he felt a strange and rather strong sense of jealousy creeping up his own spine the moment Alison looked his brat over from head to toe - and so he simply led the teenager deeper into the shop, again noticing the internal struggle, the hesitation and the panic that seemed to well up in the boy.

"Why are we here?" The teen asked, turning and looking up at him unsurely and for a moment Snape felt a strange pain in his chest as all the boy's fears washed over him.

"Did you not listen, Harry?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm. "I want you to pick out a few things. Jeans, shirts and a few t-shirts. Not to mention a pullover or two and most importantly, a jacket. This might be a Jeans shop, but other items are sold here as well."

"But I don't have any money with me." Harry said. "We should go to Gringotts first."

Well, he had known that this might come up and he knew that they might be quite at the beginning of an argument – of their _first_ argument. He would not retreat however.

"Gringotts surely will not be sufficient as we are in muggle London and wizarding money surely will not be accepted here. And neither will it be even necessary, Mr. Potter." He said, straightening himself and preparing himself for the boy's anger. "It is not your place to see to your needs and it never should have been either."

"But it isn't your place either, sir." The teenager looked at him confused and he was shaking his head.

"As it is, Harry, it actually _is_ my place." He said. "Or have you forgotten that you are in a relationship with me and that you are the junior partner in this relationship? Have you forgotten that I, as the senior partner in this relationship, am responsible for not only your safety and your well being but for your needs as well? And that does not only contain food and a bed to sleep in, but clothes and school supplies as well as books and other things a young man such as yourself is in need of."

"But that isn't right!" The teenager protested. "I always have looked after myself! I always have cared for …"

"I do not care if you have done so in the past, Mr. Potter." Snape growled darkly, getting into his teaching mode. "It never should have been your responsibility in the first place, but rest assured, it surely will not continue this way! And if you are quite done with your temper tantrum, then we can continue and be over with this."

Nodding with a defeated sigh Harry turned back towards the clothing in the shop, a nearly desperate and helpless expression on his face and again Snape had to shake his head. Well, the boy never before had been provided with proper clothing and if he was right, then those clothes he actually _had_ gotten from his relatives had been hand me downs from this obese cousin of Potter's, what would explain the fact that they were ten times too big for the boy to begin with.

Harry didn't dare to touch any of the clothes and he felt more uncomfortable than even the moment Snape had kissed him for the first time yesterday. This was more than just frightening and it was more than just awkward, Snape buying clothes for him, it was right out embarrassing. The man wasn't supposed to buy him clothes. But he also knew that it wouldn't be possible to fight Snape. It never was.

"You actually will have to touch some of those clothes if you want to choose some." He heard Snape's voice behind him and – not for the first time this day – he jumped.

"But I don't know … I don't know which one." He said, turning towards the older wizard hoping he wouldn't look as lost as he right now felt and hoping that he found any way out of this and being still sane at the end of it. "I don't know how." He added in a small whisper, looking down at the floor beneath his feet. He wasn't used to this. He never before had been in a shop for clothes aside from Madam Malkin's twice, once before first year and once before third year. He hadn't been growing much over the years and it hadn't even been necessary to by some new robes before sixth year.

So how was he supposed to know how to handle such a situation?

"Maybe by extending your hand and taking one of those Jeans from the shelf that is directly in front of your nose?" Snape's sarcastic voice made him looking up, and feeling himself blushing a crimson red he recognized that Snape must have heard his last comment quite clearly.

"Maybe we just start with which colour you prefer?" Snape asked, his eyebrow lifted, knowing that the teen indeed needed a little help here. Damn, this brat was a teenager. And weren't all teenagers supposed to enjoy being shopping and not having to pay for anything? Any other teenager would have had his field day and most probably he would end up with half the shop being bought.

But not Harry, not this brat.

"Which colour?" The boy actually asked, blinking at him in confusion. "Uhm … well …" The boy stared back at the shelf with the Jeans laying atop. "I don't know?"

"We are not at school, Potter." Snape growled, but he noticed that it was a rather gentle growl and he nearly growled again at that little realization. As it seemed he was beginning to lose his touch. "There is not wrong answer, either colour would be fine."

"Uhm … well …" The teenager shuffled his feet uncomfortably and looked at the floor. "Maybe black?"

Gritting his teeth at the thought that the boy probably never before had been able to pick the colour of the clothes he had gotten by his relatives he placed his fingers underneath the boy's chin and gently lifted Harry's head so the boy had to look at him.

"Was that a question, Mr. Potter, or a statement?" He asked, piercing his brat's green and unsure eyes and once again he could see the helplessness and the desperation in them.

"Uhm … well … I don't know?"

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It was an hour later that they finally were able to leave the shop and Snape was tired. But the tiredness he felt was nothing to the tiredness he felt coming from the teenager and he knew that the boy was close to a breaking point.

They had managed to pick a few clothes, two pairs of black Jeans, two white shirts, a few T-Shirts and a pullover. The colours of the pullover and the T-Shirts however, he'd actually had to chose them for the boy that hadn't been able to do so anymore at that point, that had been too exhausted and too worn out for picking just one single more colour – or item – by himself and he had chosen black, green and red while at the same time wondering what exactly had the boy worn out that much.

Well – considering that the boy had run a zigzag line through the supermarket, going detour over detour just to avoid any human contact – it was a tiring feat and so of course he was tired now, after the added strain of having to chose clothes for himself what he never before in his life had done, as it seemed and he knew – it simply was a social anxiety the blasted brat suffered from added to his sleeping disorder and his eating disorder, and a rather severe one, he was sure of that.

And so - the jacket in the end, he had sensed that Harry wouldn't be able choosing one by himself anymore at that point and so he had decided to leave it at that. The boy could wear his cardigan for a bit longer, he would take the boy shopping once more later in the year for one. And hopefully Harry would have gotten used to such things by then.

Well, he would take the boy to McFish's for a short meal and then he would get him home. Everything else he needed, he would get at a later point, knowing that Harry already was overstrained.

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Entering the fast food restaurant in front of Snape who still led him with one hand on his shoulders, Harry closed his eyes for a moment in defeat. He would give anything for just being back at home, back at Hogwarts. He was tired as seldom before and all he wanted was to lay down and to sleep. Not to mention that he wasn't a friend of fish in the first place. Everything that came out of the water simply wasn't edible and he always had wondered how people could eat such things.

But he also had learned to eat everything, never mind if he liked it or not. He had been lucky if he had gotten anything to eat at the Dursleys and being picky simply wasn't an option then. He would have died years ago then.

So well, there surely would be something like a fish burger or something akin, just like the burgers at McDonald's or Burger King which Dudley once had raved about while he had been sitting opposite him in the restaurant, watching him and trying to not look greedy so the other people wouldn't stare or uncle Vernon would have had his hide later, he'd known that. He always had wanted eating such a burger ever since and he guessed he would be able to get such a thing even with fish on it down. Somehow. Honestly, he had eaten worse, back at the Dursleys. And he simply didn't want to disappoint Snape. The older wizard had been more calm and understanding, even nice, than he had thought possible and he really was grateful for the Potions Master's ways of acting during their stay in the shops, helping him with all those clothes.

Not to mention that the man had spent a small fortune for the clothes he had bought him. Well, not really, but in his – Harry's – opinion it had been one. Never before had anyone spent such an amount of money for him. So the last he could do was to go through with …

Blinking in near shock Harry recognized that this restaurant wasn't like McDonald's at all, and neither like Burger King.

There was a counter where the food was ordered, yes. And there were small groups of tables and chairs, yes. And the food was to be taken on tablets from the counter to the tables too, yes. But there wasn't a sign above the counter that showed the different menus. Instead there were … again he blinked and he could feel the panic rising in his chest … there were fishes in all forms and variations placed in the counter and he recognized that he actually had to chose one of those.

"Afternoon." The woman behind the counter greeted them in a bored voice.

"Good afternoon." Snape greeted back. "What do you want, Harry?" He then asked and for a moment Harry struggled to keep his panic at bay. How should he … how was he supposed to … how was he …

"Uhm … you chose first, sir." He then said, hoping that the man's order would give him some time to choose something for himself and he stared at the different sorts of fish. There were just too many different sorts of them and he didn't know how in Merlin's name he should be able to choose one of them.

It was just impossible.

He never before had chosen anything to eat for himself.

At the Dursleys it always had been eating what had been left if he was lucky or eating nothing at all. And at Hogwarts the food was prepared in the kitchens and served in the great hall and there wasn't anything to choose either. Aside from the welcoming feast when the tables were overloaded with food. But he never had been able to eat much during those feasts, his stomach always too weak for any of those foods after the starvation with the Dursleys.

"I will look for a table while you order, Harry." Snape said, taking the tablet with his food from the counter and Harry recognized with a new wave of panic that his time was up, that Snape had finished his order and that the woman behind the counter was watching him expectantly.

Gulping nervously he again gazed at the different fishes before he looked back up at the woman.

"Uhm … are there any bones in the fish?" He then asked. He of course knew that there wouldn't be any bones in the fishes, but he simply had _had _to ask this question, just to buy himself more time. But the woman shook her head at once.

"No, there are no bones in the fishes." She answered him annoyed. "Those are properly prepared fish filets."

Well, again his time was up and still he had not been able to chose anything for himself. Closing his eyes he could feel the panic rising another notch and the annoyance he felt coming from the woman behind the counter didn't anything to help him either.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he pointed to one of the fishes. "This one." He said, whatever this one was, glad that he was over with it and he sighed in relief, turning towards the tables where Snape had been disappearing to.

"What side dish do you want?" He heard the woman behind him ask and slowly he turned, blinking at her in confusion, not understanding her question. What did she mean with - side dish? Why would he want to have a side dish? Blinking at the counter again he saw a few containers containing rice and noodles, a container with a mass that surely was meant to be considered as mashed potatoes and one that contained potato salad and he noticed that he would have to choose something once more. The side dish.

Well, ok. He would be able to do that, he could deal with that. He could choose something.

Closing his eyes for another moment to calm himself he reopened them and gazed at the containers again. Well, surely not the mass that looked like mashed potatoes. And surely not the potato salad either. He liked potato salad, but this one was made with mayonnaise and he wasn't too fond of potato salad with mayonnaise. He preferred potato salad made with vinegar and with salad oil.

So it would be rice or noodles.

The noodles however looked like a strange stodge and the rice – well, it didn't look to appetising either, dry somehow.

Again he watched at the woman that watched him openly annoyed now, clearly impatient and he grew more and more nervous with each passing second, felt his breath being caught in his chest and he simply didn't know what to do. How was he supposed to choose anything of this again? Anything to eat for himself? Hadn't it been enough to choose the fish? Any why in Merlin's name couldn't they have a simple burgers?

He couldn't do this. He couldn't …

He was saved from a door opening behind the counter and a young guy bringing out a container with what looked like fried potatoes and with another sigh of relief he closed his eyes. Fried potatoes he would be able to eat. And fried potatoes he would be able to eat here, in this place, outside of the safe environment that was Hogwarts, that were Snape's quarters.

Remembering Snape he turned and his eyes searched for the man for a moment, just as he heard the woman asking him again about the side dish he still had not chosen yet and his mind back on the nearly impossible task he blinked again before he wordlessly pointed at the container that had been brought out a moment before, glad that this too was over with now.

He had managed to choose a complete meal and tiredly he turned again, blinking in confusion, trying to remember what it had been he had been thinking about before …

Snape … yes …

He had been thinking about Snape.

About Severus. And again he turned towards the tables, his eyes searching for the older wizard. But he couldn't find him. He let his eyes wander over the tables, but he couldn't find him. He had been there, the moment before, but now he was gone and again he felt his panic raising. Damn, there weren't so much people that Snape could get lost in the mass. There was a small family of three in the middle of the restaurant. And then there was a young couple sitting at a table that stood at one wall. And a third table was occupied by a man in his mid ages maybe. But there was however no sign of Snape, of Severus.

He let his eyes wander over each chair, carefully to not leave one out, but again, he couldn't find the Potions Master. He couldn't find Snape, Severus, his senior partner. He simply couldn't find him.

"What do you want to drink?" The woman wanted to know and again he turned back towards the counter.

What in Merlin's name did this woman want of him now?

"To drink." She said. "What do you want to drink?"

What did she mean? Why would he want something to drink now? And if, then what would he want to drink? Closing his eyes he tried to understand the meaning of the words, tried to find an answer to the question that had been asked of him. What was it he would want to drink normally anyway? Was he even supposed to drink something?

Again turning back towards the tables he searched for something he knew was there, but for the life of him, he didn't know what exactly he was searching for. He knew he had known it a moment before, but now he didn't remember. And gripping the front of his shirt he tried to get some air into his lungs.

What did he do here anyway? Why was he here in the first place? And what in Merlin's damn name was he searching for? Had he lost something? And why didn't he remember when he had done so just a moment ago? Gritting his teeth and curling his hands into fists he tried to concentrate and he blinked again, trying to get the confusion away and suddenly his eyes fell onto a black figure that made its way towards him.

Snape!

Yes, it had been Snape he had been searching, it was Severus he right now needed and exhaling with relief he slumped his shoulders. He at least had found Snape. At least the older wizard was back. Even if he still had the feeling that there had been a question he had been supposed to answer and even if he couldn't remember what the question had been in the first place.

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He had chosen a table that was standing in a far corner where they would have a bit more privacy and he emptied the tablet he had brought over, placed the plate, the glass of water and the cutlery at one side of the table and the tablet onto one of the chairs. He never had liked to eat from a tablet, not even in such a restaurant where it would have been quite common and he simply refused doing so now either.

Shopping with Potter in muggle London had been a nightmare thus far and Severus actually was worried now. He had not only _seen_ how tired the brat had been, but he actually had _felt_ it. The tiredness, the wariness that had been rising into fear and from there into panic. The unsureness and the reluctance, the helplessness. And right now he felt the boy close to drowning in this panic and turning towards the counter where he had left his brat he found the teenager standing there, lost, turned towards him, his eyes searching. He could tell that his eyes had been fallen onto him just a moment before, that Harry had seen him, but now he realized that the brat simply had not recognized him being actually there, had not found him and he narrowed his eyes.

The boy definitely was close to a panic attack and the boy definitely needed help.

Well, he still had to pay anyway.

So he went back to the counter and when he came closer he could see the boy exhaling deeply with relief and the teen's shoulders slumping with exhaustion. And he immediately knew that it wasn't actually bodily exhaustion, even if Harry surely was bodily tired by now, but that it was a mental exhaustion. The boy's mind just had stopped working after the strain of … sighing he recognized his mistake.

First the – for Harry – straining experience in the supermarket where he had had to choose his way carefully, walking detours through empty corridors and rows, in order to avoid other people. Then the Jeans shop where he had to choose clothes, colours, what exactly he had wanted. And now the boy had to choose food.

Food after all, something he was not comfortable with in the first place. And outside of his – Snape's – safe quarters no less.

And now the boy's mind simply had shut down, leaving Harry unable to make any more decisions, unable to think properly and unable to fulfil the simplest tasks. For a moment he wondered if it might have been the same with Harry's classes in school. If Harry maybe just had been unable to concentrate after being tired. And after being that close to the teen since the beginning of this school year he knew how easily the boy got tired.

Placing his hand onto Harry's shoulder to calm the boy he noticed that the teenager didn't even flinch anymore while at the same time he took in the situation, Harry having been ordering his food while the drink was still missing and the woman behind the counter still waiting, looking annoyed and impatient, even slightly angry now and he had to fight hard to keep his anger at the woman under control. Of course Harry had gotten afraid after sensing the woman's annoyance and impatience.

"A coke, sugar-free, if you would." He said coolly, not bothering to use the word please. Honestly, couldn't the woman keep her professionalism?

"Take a deep breath, Harry." He silently said, turning towards the boy while the coke was poured. The caffeine of the coke hopefully would get Harry's concentration back and the boy alert and calm again. Most people believed that caffeine would get everyone hyper, but he knew that caffeine served to keep one's concentration up. And if one could concentrate, then the one could control himself. It really was a simple thing. As long as no sugar would be involved.

He had watched the boy throughout the day and he had a suspicion now. And honestly, if he were right, then crystal sugar only would serve to get the boy's body to work as it would have to split the sugar up. And this kind of work the boy's body would have to do only would take energy off his brain, energy his brain needed to concentrate. He would make his tests with the brat during the next days, after he had gotten him to have a good night's sleep, that was.

And honestly, if he were right, then that would explain a lot of his brat's strange behaviours, his inability to concentrate on important tasks, to keep his attention at an assignment for longer than ten minutes and his mastery in forgetting things that were important while at the same time he remembered things that were only secondary. Not to forget his inability to notice important things around him while at the same time he noticed things every other one would overlook. It would explain the boy following only his impulses.

He paid for the two meals and then gently curled the fingers of his left around Harry's right upper arm to lead him to the table he had chosen earlier. He would get Harry's tablet after he had ensured that the teenager was sitting safely at …

"Uhm … sir!" The waitress' voice interrupted his line of thought and he turned towards her. "The tablet!"

"Ever heard of patience, woman?" He hissed back, angrily, fixing her with one of his cold glares, one of those who made his first and second years wetting themselves. "If this word exists in your vocabulary, that is, as it does not have anything to do with fish, side dishes, a drink or tablets." Well, she shrunk back, surprised, and he turned back to Harry, smirking satisfied.

He had not lost his touch after his time with Potter.

This brat had his own ability to make one soft if being too long in his presence and he honestly didn't know why he never had seen it before that Potter indeed was a person that was very much lovable. As strange as he could be sometimes. And what was more, the boy had the strongest ability to forgive he ever had seen in someone. He truly had made the boy's life a living hell for years now, and still the brat seemed to have forgiven him, trusted him even, as strange as it might sound. Every other child would have cursed him to hell and back if being in the same position as Potter right now was instead of actually entering a relationship with him.

He led his brat towards the table and gently forced him down onto one of the chairs before he went back to the counter to get the tablet. He placed the plate, the glass of coke and the cutlery in front of the boy and the tablet above his before he sat down himself and pointed at the food.

"Take a drink of your coke!" He growled, ignoring the slight flinch Potter gave away. "And then eat!"

He was not angry at the brat. He knew by now how unsure he was when it came to strangers, to people in general he guessed, and that somehow his brat feared them – whatever reason for.

Well, he had been there too, at this point, long years ago, but he couldn't remember it being _that_ bad back then. Since today he sometimes thought the boy would fear his own shadow while mistaking it for other people.

He took his cutlery and started to eat, watching the boy close and he noticed that he looked ready to drop. The brat really was mentally exhausted and his fingers still trembled to a point where he nearly dropped his cutlery a few times. Getting some food into him hopefully would help.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had ordered Potter to rest on the sofa, to sleep if possible, just so he would get a bit of the much needed sleep the boy had lacked during only Merlin knew how long and then he had gone to his potions laboratory. Not only to have a look at the potions he stacked there, but to calm his nerves as well.

Those damn muggles definitely had neglected the boy and they had done so in a horrible manner. Never before had he learned of any child being kept in a cupboard. Not even an animal was kept in a cupboard. And they had done so to a child. It was …

It was horrible and it was a crime, and even if the brat had shaken his head at his question if there was anything else he should know about, he had an unsettling feeling.

The boy's behaviour today had been proof enough to him as to _how _badly the boy had been neglected. The brat hadn't even been able to do such normal things like shopping in a supermarket, like buying simple clothes and like visiting a fast food restaurant. The simplest and most normal things to do, but his brat was unable to because he feared being in the open, because he feared being close to other human beings, because he feared choosing anything for himself. And he feared those things because he had been neglected for years in a horrible way, starved and kept in a cupboard for years.

Closing his eyes the Potions Master knew he needed to get back control over himself before he …

Soft tingling alarms interrupted his thoughts as the wards he had cast over the boy before he had left just to ensure he would be fine, went off and got louder from second to second and he turned to leave the laboratory.

The boy wasn't in the living area anymore when he entered and the quick gaze he threw through the room fell onto the ajar door to the bathroom. '_Damn it Harry.' _He thought._ 'What is going on in that head of yours? Why this, and why now?'_ Quickly he went over and shoved the ajar door open.

Harry could barely keep his head rested in his trembling hand while he threw up with the pain that flared through his head and his eyes began to water immediately while his stomach cramped painfully too. The headache had build up minutely and by now he thought he surely would pass out from the pain that caused him to throw up. He tensed startled when a cool and gentle hand, far gentler than he would have anticipated, pushed strands of his hair back and then the same hand was placed on his forehead, supporting his hurting head with a strong touch.

Snape cursed when he saw the boy on his knees in front of the toilet, losing what little he had eaten, noticing the trembling in the thin limbs and the sweat soaked dark hair. For a moment he thought the boy had caused this on purpose, knowing that he _had_ an eating disorder, but then he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell onto the brat's hand coming to his forehead. A hand that was bloodied from being clenched into a fist so tightly that Potter had dug his nails into his palm, rubbing over the skin with a whimper in a futile attempt to ease the pain he apparently was in and immediately he knew the boy had a headache. And a severe headache from the look of it.

He was beside the boy in an instant, placing one hand onto the boy's forehead in order to support his head while he summoned a wet cloth with his other hand.

"Easy, brat." He whispered more calmly than he felt. "Take deep breathes, even breathes."

He noticed the tears which Potter stubbornly refused to shed, the fearful whimper when he placed the wet cloth on his forehead and the shivering upon sitting on the cold floor.

"Hush boy." The Potions Master whispered, placing a hand on the teen's neck and massaging the tense muscles, hoping neither the touch nor the movements would cause more pain to the teenager but ease the pain a little. "Calm your breathing." He whispered. "I'll get you a potion in a minute. Just calm down for now." He noticed the brat flinching violently at the word 'boy', tensing up and whimpering fearfully, trying to get away from him, but he ignored it for now and strengthened his grip on the boy instead. He had more worrying things at hand right now than a simple word and the teen's reaction to it.

Potter closed his eyes in order to concentrate on doing as he was told and the tears he had kept back so stubbornly fell with the movement of the eyelids. Yet – he really calmed down enough so he could breathe and Snape grabbed the boy at the chin and slowly, carefully pulled the pale face towards him searched the pale face intensely for each and every sign of how worse Potter's pain was and as the green eyes opened they locked with Snape's black ones as he chocked upon a pained sob.

"Alright. Come on, Harry." The Potions Master murmured. "Let us get you into a horizontal position on the sofa."

Harry felt the tiredness and exhaustion that threatened to drawn him but the pain was just too much for him to get up and a moment later a slender hand was held out to him. He glanced up at the older wizard, unsurely, wondering what Snape meant with his words that just dimly reached through the pain, but the dark unreadable eyes were strangely soothing him and slowly he placed his own hand in the larger one that Snape still held out towards him. This apparently it was, Snape wanted him to do.

He was gently pulled to his feet and for a moment he had to grip the older wizard's arm to steady himself as the pain increased at the movement and he stiffened, sure that the man would reprimand him for his weakness, but there were no harsh words, only an arm that curled around his shoulders, prompting him to walk.

Harry swayed on unsure feet and Snape waited for a moment when the boy grasped his arm to steady himself before he wrapped his arm around the still trembling shoulders and steered the boy from the bathroom to the sitting room. The smaller and younger wizard's steps were uneven and unsure and for a moment the Potions Master considered just lifting the brat up into his arms and to carry him towards the sofa, but then he dismissed the thought. As he knew Potter, he only would startle him with the action.

He gently pressed the boy down to sit upon the soft furniture.

"Easy now, Harry." He said, his deep and velvet voice calming, pressing the boy's upper body down until he lay flat on the sofa. "Lay down. I will get the potion."

Even just laying down, Potter's movements were slow, but when he finally lay, still shivering, he gave a sigh of relief away.

Snape cast another glance at the boy before he went back towards his potions laboratory he just had left to get the pain reliever, softly cursing under his breath. Why hadn't he seen the oncoming headache? Was the boy so good at hiding pain? Well, apparently he was because he hadn't seen any signs of pain before. He would have to have a word about hiding pain from him with the brat too. It was getting a bit much he would have to have a word with the boy about, he recognized, and it surely wouldn't be easy.

Potter lay on his side when Snape came back and he softly placed his hand onto the boy's shoulder, trying to move him onto his back but the boy rolled over and into his arms, his hands fastening themselves in the black robes as if they were a lifeline he could cling to, pressing his forehead against the fabric that covered Snape's chest and the Potions Master knew that his robes probably were colder than the boy's forehead and thus easing the pain.

"Hush, Harry." He whispered, trying to get the boy onto his back but it was useless and he cast his dark eyes downwards to peer into the boy's green ones. But he couldn't see them as the pale face was buried against his chest and he only could grab the boy's hand when Harry threw his arm towards the backrest in order to release some strain in a frustrated attempt to hit the sofa, and secure it in his own hand, holding it gently for a moment before prying the boy's other hand off his robes and gently forcing Harry onto his back.

"Damn." He softly cursed. "Stop this, Harry. Look at me and take deep breathes. Calm down, boy. You can do this." But it was of no use, the brat was too far gone to focus upon words any longer and the only thing the Potions Master could do was to pry the boy's clenched teeth apart to pour the potion down the boy's throat and hope he wouldn't choke on it wondering what would happen first, either the boy would be knocked out because of the pain out or the potion would take hold.

He pressed the wet cloth once again onto Harry's forehead with one hand and rested the other with a firm grip on the boy's smaller hands to still them as Potter began to sob, deep and heartbreaking sobs of pain that nearly shocked him while the boy still struggled against his hands until Snape simply pulled him into his arms, sitting onto the sofa himself and bringing Potter with him so the child was resting against his chest.

And nothing else Potter was in just this moment. A sixteen year old child that was in pain and in need of someone who finally took care of him. He gently rocked the boy until Harry silently cried himself into exhaustion, his voice finally giving out and the potion finally taking hold and Snape cursed time and time again, allowing his cool hands to calm the pained teenager as he closed his eyes.

"Oh, child, what am I going to do with you?" He softly murmured.

The boy he held in his arms was still shivering and he pulled the blanket that was resting over the couch and wrapped it around Potter, rousing him from his slight slumber.

"Why?" Harry asked, not even sure if Snape heard him but then he felt the older wizard moving and looking down at him.

"Why what, Harry?" Snape's soft and deep voice asked, strangely comforting.

"Why doing that? No one cares." He had to fight against his last remnants of pain and against the tiredness to get the words out and they seemed strangely wrong to himself, more a weak and slurred whisper than anything else and he silently cursed himself for his weakness but he had to tell Snape about the Dursley's.

The man wouldn't continue this if he didn't tell him. He had made it clear a few days ago. Or had it been yesterday? Never mind, he cursed, it wasn't important. He had said he needed to know. And he had said, then better keeping his fingers off this person. But somehow his mind couldn't wrap around this thought.

Snape's sharp black eyes noticed as the brat's eyes drifted shut. The boy had finally and slowly lost his grip on his robes and on reality as well while his body finally gave way to the potion and exhaustion and he took the small hands in his own one as he wiped away the blood on his brat's palms where he had dug his nails into the skin.

He really would have to have a serious word with the brat, and soon.

Not only about the nightmares and the headaches, but about the brat hiding his pain from him so well, too – and not only considering their relationship but generally. But mostly, if he wanted doing this, to continue this relationship – and somehow he knew that he would, felt that it was right, even knew that Harry wanted the same – then Potter would have to trust him and to tell him if he was in pain. Not to mention the fact that he should tell him so he just could give him something for the pain in the first place. That was one of the advantages if being in a relationship with a Potions Master after all.

Damn, he surely wouldn't have thought to get into a relationship with a teenager, with any person that was as damaged as Potter was and for a moment he wondered if the boy was too damaged for him to handle, to undo all the damage. He was damaged by himself, for Merlin's sake. Would he really be able to deal with Potter?

But then – he always had been able to deal with his Slytherins. So – yes, he would.

Well, he had known from the beginning that he had to be slow and patient with this, that he couldn't rush things with this boy. So, honestly, this just had been proving that he had been right.

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"Are you sure you want to continue this, sir?" Harry asked, a few hours later, his gaze resting unsure on the older wizard's face. "I mean … you … I … I'm … you said you would be difficult. But compared to me you are easy. You don't faint, you're not a baby, you …"

"Stop this nonsense at once, Mr. Potter." Snape growled, reaching the stomach soothing potion and the nutrition potion towards the brat that – as it seemed – tried to get him annoyed at all costs. "First, continue insulting yourself and you really will end up scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of this school year. Second, I already told you, it is not your fault and we will deal with it. And third, you will be fine if you do as I say and eat and sleep properly. And besides," Snape smirked at him, "call me easy once more and you will find yourself in quite some trouble. I am not a kitten that is easy to handle."

For a moment the brat actually smiled at the joke he had made and Snape nodded satisfied. That was much better. The smile just vanished too quickly for his liking and was replaced with an unsure gaze.

"It just seems that I have to make a few things clear to you." He said, his voice serious again. "I do not want you hiding your pain from me, Harry. It is imperative that you address me if you feel unwell. I want you to address me if you are in pain, I want you to address me if you feel unwell at all and I want you to even address me if you are scared. Even if it is of me. I have to know such things so I can help you. And no silencing spells. I want to know it if you suffer from a nightmare in order to wake you up and get you out of it. And no, I do not mind." He added at the guilty look the brat gave him. "This simply is the meaning of caring for someone. You might not be used to someone actually taking care of you, but this is what you simply will have to get used to. Because I intent to take care of you. You are the junior partner in this relationship and I will take care of you and I will protect you."

Harry looked up at Snape and he could see that the older wizard did mean what he said, and for the first time in his life he actually allowed himself a little bit of hope that maybe – just maybe – someone cared enough to help and protect him.

"Will you do the same?" He asked carefully and Snape huffed at him.

"Brat!" The older wizard growled darkly, not able to stop his hand from running through the black and unruly mop of hair. "As if I would allow a teenager that is not even able to tell the difference between a glass of pumpkin juice and a vial of pain relieving potion to rummage through my potions in order to find the one I might be in need of if being unwell. I have taken care of myself for long enough and I will continue doing so. But should I die, then of course I shall inform you." He joked with a light-heartiness he didn't quite feel. The intensity of the headache the boy had had earlier had startled him and he had to find out what exactly had been the cause of this headache.

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This night in bed Snape wasn't able to sleep for a long time, thinking over his brat.

The boy was a teenager, for crying out loud. And a teenager was supposed to feel free, to enjoy a day of shopping instead of going to classes and a teenager was supposed to feel comfortable in a fast food store. Not to mention that a teenager was supposed to wear clothes that were rather new and cared for instead of old rags that were ten numbers too large.

But on the other hand – the boy had been neglected by his family. He had been deprived of not only clothing but even food and a room, so what in Merlin's name did he expect? They had starved the boy and they had locked him into a cupboard. Most likely Harry never before had been out shopping and most likely he never before had been out for eating at all.

During their occlumency lessons last year he had seen some images of Harry's cousin, a baby whale of a boy that had grown into a whale of a boy throughout the years and considering Harry's clothes, then they all had been hand-me downs from this cousin. So the Dursleys never ever before had bought him clothes for himself.

But he knew for a fact that the Dursleys got a salary from the ministry of magic, from child welfare for the boy, they had discussed it during an order meeting once and he wondered what in Merlin's name the Dursleys had done with the money they had gotten. Most likely they had spent it for themselves. Were still spending it for themselves. But that would change, he grimly thought.

Growling angrily he got up, unable to sleep anyway. Honestly, if the clothes that Harry had been willing to wear in front of him had been his better sets of clothes, then he actually wondered what the boy was hiding away in his trunk. Those idiotic imbeciles of guardians the brat had had for fifteen years now ought to be punished for neglecting the boy and for spending the money they had gotten for the child for themselves instead of for the boy's needs.

And none of them had noticed! Damn, if he had known earlier!

He would have been able to do something, to get the boy out of there. He would have been able to …

Sighing he recognized that it was a mute point now. It _had_ happened and none of them_ had_ noticed. So Harry had been neglected for fifteen years now and he only could try to undo some of the damage that had been caused by those damn muggles that were his brat's relatives.

_And by him_, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered.

And nevertheless the boy had been able to forgive him, to forgive him completely, from one day to the other, as it seemed. As if it never had happened, as if he had forgotten about it.

Leaving his bed chamber and entering the small kitchen that was attached to his quarters he went to get a glass of water, only to find Harry sitting at the kitchen table, his arms laying on the table and his head resting above his arms, clearly awake and deep in thoughts as it seemed.

The Potions Master watched the student for a few moments silently from the doorway and again, just like so often during the past few days he felt that it was right, he felt that it was what was meant to be, Harry being here, Harry being his submissive, and silently he walked over and placed a hand on his brat's shoulder, once more ignoring the flinch the boy gave away. The teenager had had a difficult day, and now he was deep in his thoughts in the middle of the night. Of course he would be startled.

"Why are you not asleep?" Snape asked, his hands still resting on Harry's shoulders.

"I don't know." Harry answered quietly, leaning back slightly against Severus' body and closing his eyes, savouring the moment and Snape could feel the teen calming, being at ease in his presence.

"Severus …?"

"Yes?" Snape encouraged when Harry failed to continue his sentence. It was an unusual incident for Harry to address him by his first name in the first place, and it was nearly strange for Snape to hear his given name on the boy's lips. And the fact that the brat started a conversation by himself and sounded so serious about it didn't ease the strange feeling that crept over him either.

The teen wanted to tell him something, the brat had tried to tell him something earlier, and a _few _times by now, he was sure. So, whatever it was, it had to be important.

"I … never mind, it's not really important." The teenager then said, shaking his head and the Potions Master had to suppress a low sigh of frustration. Did the boy trust him so little that he wasn't ready to discuss important things with him? He watched his brat with his eyes narrowed and then shook his head, wishing the teen would talk to him, would tell him what bothered him.

"What is it, Harry?" He asked, trying to get the boy to open up to him.

"It really isn't important." Harry answered, his voice still quiet, turning his head and lifting it upwards so he could peer at him. The brat had a small smile on his lips as he watched him and Snape nearly hitched a breath.

Potter actually smiled at him. At him! At the evil dungeon bastard that had made his life a living hell for the past five years! This brat, _his _brat, was actually smiling at him! How did the boy do this? How could the teen smile at him after all he had put him through? After all the hurtful comments and ridicules he had put him through? After all the unfair detentions and other things he had brought over the boy? How could he now smile at him like this?

It was a sad smile, a very serious smile, but it was an honest smile, what made this smile at him just worse and he had to close his eyes for a moment.

"Go back to sleep, brat." He said, barely able to keep his own voice from trembling. He would talk to him the next day.

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_What will happen if Harry decides to finally tell Severus what is on his mind? Will the Potions Master understand?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	13. admitting the truth

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_How could he now smile at him like this?_

_It was a sad smile, a very serious smile, but it was an honest smile, what made this smile at him just worse and he had to close his eyes for a moment. _

_"Go back to sleep, brat." He said, barely able to keep his own voice from trembling. He would talk to him the next day._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter thirteen**

**Admitting the truth**

When Harry entered his quarters this evening after being out for flying a bit on the pitch, the Potions Master at once knew something was wrong. The boy looked at him for a second before averting his eyes and gazing at the floor. Then he just looked around the room, nearly sadly, before he stormed off towards the kitchen.

He meanwhile knew that the boy could be strange sometimes, if _anything_ had shown this then it had been their trip to London yesterday, but he hadn't reacted _that_ strange up to now and he wondered what had happened. And from the boy's behaviour he knew something _had_ happened. Something was wrong. He could tell it just by looking at him that the boy was deeply disturbed and with a small sigh he got up.

When Severus entered the small kitchen he found the boy kneeling atop of a chair, his entire appearance hunched over and a piece of parchment in front of him on which he was writing on.

At first he thought that it might be an essay and he wondered why Harry would do his homework in the kitchen instead of in the room he was occupying since a few days now. Well – yes, he had told him that he would appreciate it if the brat came out of his room whenever he wanted, whenever he felt the need to see him or to be near him. So – no, he did not mind. He just wondered.

But then he noticed that it wasn't homework at all but a letter or something like that and curiously he seated himself opposite the boy. He did not read what Harry wrote, respecting the boy's privacy, as always, but he watched him, and with each line Harry wrote, he got more and more worried.

Harry wrote quickly, as if the words were flowing out of him, yet – his movements were jerky and his fingers which held the quill shook horribly. A few times Snape even had to suppress the urge to reach over and still their trembling by simply taking the boy's hands into his own. What the hell did happen to the brat during the evening while being out flying? Had he had another encounter with Weasley?

A few times the boy even stopped writing just to place his arms onto the table and his head atop his arms, and Snape could tell that he was close to tears, nothing that actually would serve to set him at ease anytime soon.

"Harry?" He finally asked when the teen yet again laid his head onto his arms. Just to have a startled boy in front of him who got as pale as the wall behind him. The green eyes much too large in the otherwise thin and pale face and the teen nearly reared back.

"What is wrong, Harry?" He asked, his voice low and he could hear the concern in his voice by himself. Yet – he didn't care. Not this time.

But he got no answer except of a desperate look on the boy's face and a shaking of his head, before he went on writing. So he just waited, worried to no end.

He even considered getting up and calling for Granger or Weasley to ask them. But that would be no option. People might think that he cared about Potter, and Severus Snape definitely cared about no one. That at least it was what he told himself. So he just had to wait.

At first he had wondered to whom the boy wrote this letter, but more and more … somehow he knew that this one would be for him and that he would get answers out of it.

But he wondered why Harry did not just tell him what was bothering him.

And then, after another few moments the only reasonable answer struck his mind - Harry wanted to end their relationship they had and the brat did not dare to say it out aloud. He knew that sometimes writing was easier than talking. And his heart clenched painfully at this thought.

He suddenly wasn't able to sit there any longer and to watch Potter writing a letter that would end their relationship and with a painful clench in his chest he realized how important this boy had become to him. He didn't want to lose the boy. He didn't want to lose his brat. He didn't want to lose his submissive – Harry. He simply couldn't remain sitting there while the boy wrote and he got up and left the kitchen, settled onto pacing the living area nervously, thinking.

About for example – why would Harry write this kind of letter in his quarters instead of writing it in his common room? Or about why the boy appeared to want and go through the trouble giving him the letter in person instead of just sending it with an owl?

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Harry knew what he had to do. He had known it since a few days now and he knew exactly that right now would be a good time. Snape hadn't said anything to his strange behaviour yesterday during their outing, but he knew that Snape had been pissed off, he had seen the dark looks the man had given him every then and now, especially whenever he had flinched away from him or whenever he had jumped more violently than normal.

Well, it was normal that he flinched when he was touched, but he was at a boarding school since more than five years now and of course he was touched every now and then. In fact, it happened so often that he had learned to keep his fears and his flinches hidden by overlaying movements that covered them. And honestly he normally noticed it if someone tried to touch or approach him and with Ron and Hermione he had worked out such a familiarity over the years that they had known better than to touch him when his mind was someplace else, but yesterday he had been unprepared far too often and Snape had not been used to this familiarity he had with Ron and Hermione.

Well, _had_ had, that was. Ron surely wouldn't touch him by free will once again, probably fearing his freakishness would taint him. And Hermione probably too, even if he didn't know for sure, he hadn't talked to her since they had found out about him.

But that wasn't important right now. Important right now was Snape and that he was about to lose the man. But he nevertheless had to tell him before he would find out by himself. He would be in so much trouble then, he knew. Snape would skin him alive. And probably use him in one of his potions.

Sighing he got off the table, pocketed the letter, just in case he wouldn't be able to tell the older wizard, and then left the kitchen, entered the living area he so often was sitting in with Snape comfortably by now. He definitely would miss those moments.

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Snape stopped his pacing and turned the moment he heard Potter's soft footfalls on the wooden floor and gazed at the teenager that simply was standing there and made no move to walk past him to the sofa where he normally would sit on, leaning against the backrest and his legs drawn up onto the seat. He just stood there, watching him warily and fearfully as if he waited for trouble to come, ready to move backwards, ready to – he narrowed his eyes at the brat - yes, ready to defend himself. What exactly did the boy fear? Why did he still fear him? Severus?

A question he asked himself not for the first time.

Slowly he went over to the boy, keeping his distance, but his dark eyes never left the thin face that was a pale mask of fear, the green eyes that watched him, much too large for his liking. But still Potter made no move, just watched him fearfully.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked, breaking the silence between them, trying to give the boy the chance to say what he had to say, even if he knew that he would not like what would come, that he would not like to lose the boy and he simply wasn't able to keep his disappointment at bay.

Potter looked up at him, startled, as if he had forgotten where he was or with whom he was and the look of fear on the brat's face intensified.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked again, more demanding now, but again he got no answer.

"Potter!" He finally growled. He had not bellowed the word, but it was sharp and louder than his voice had been a moment before and at once the boy cringed, flinched away and his arms twitched in front of him.

Narrowing his eyes even more at the teenager he took a step towards the boy but at the same moment Potter reared back from him, lifting his arms up in front of his face and he would have fallen if he had not taken another quick step towards the boy and grabbed his upper arms to steady him, a startled scream of fear escaping Harry's lips that made Snape's heart clench painfully in his chest.

What in Merlin's name was the meaning of this? What in Merlin's name had happened to the boy? And why in Merlin's name did he fear him to _such _an intensity right now?

Taking a step back to give the teenager some space Snape slowly extended his hand towards the sofa, inviting the boy to sit down, watching him carefully.

"Sit." He said, his voice low and severe. Somehow he doubted that this really was about ending their relationship now. If that would cause such intense fear from the boy, then Potter would not tell him in person. No, this was about something else and he not only wondered what it was but he actually was worried deeply now.

But Harry did not take a seat. He simply stood there for a moment longer, his shoulders bend, his hands clasped together in front of him and his gaze wandered unsurely through the room before it briefly fell onto him and then dropped towards the floor.

And then – Snape didn't know what he should be thinking and thus simply lifted his eyebrow at the teen – Potter slowly lifted his hands and started to open the button on the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers trembling and he had to suppress the urge to snap at the boy instead of waiting patiently. He managed though, standing in front of the boy who now shoved the sleeve up his arm, revealing painstakingly thin wrists and lower arms.

Well, he had known that the teen was far too thin, and he had felt how thin those wrists were when he had grabbed them to pin the brat's hands above his head towards the wall during their first – well, interactions. But seeing them now was another matter altogether and so when his gaze wandered down to them he frowned, taking a step towards the boy.

Scars were visible on the pale skin, a lot of them, some old and some new ones. Bruises, cuts and burn marks. But when his gaze got to the small wrists his frown even deepened and with a low growl he took one of the boy's hands in his own, turning it, ignoring the violent flinch the boy gave away, and ignoring the weak try to pull his hand back, away from him.

At first, when seeing the cuts on the teen's now exposed lower arm, he had thought they were self inflicted. Something some of his Slytherin students did sometimes – until he noticed and gave them other alternatives. And extra points when they stopped cutting.

But those scars weren't self inflicted, he now noticed.

The cuts were not the style of those he saw on his Slytherin's arms. And the burn marks didn't fit into this either. Nor did the scars that ran round Harry's wrists. Those scars definitely were caused from ropes and he again growled darkly as a foreboding of their meaning hit him.

"Is there anything what you want to tell me, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his voice dangerously low. He simply wasn't able to keep the anger he felt under control at the thought of what had been the cause to those scars. But he gained nothing, not even a shaking of the boy's head. Absolutely no reaction at all, and Harry didn't even look at him, his eyes lingering at the ground all the time. He even had given up to try and get his arm out of his grip.

"Surely you remember the fact that I told you about trust, Mr. Potter." He said in a low but stern voice. "And how important it is to speak about what I probably should know. Do you not think that this," he pointed at the barely healed scars that ran around the boy's writs, "would belong into this category?"

Again there was no answer, Potter looked at him for a split second before he again lowered his gaze and then opened his mouth but no word came out and he closed it again, tensing up even more until Severus thought he might snap into two at any moment.

Sighing heavily he placed one hand on the boy's shoulder and pushed him down until he was sitting on the sofa, not releasing his wrist.

"How did this happen, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his voice gentle and calming, but still stern, trying to keep some much needed professionalism up right now. This simply was too serious and he had to keep control over himself and his emotions. "And why did you not tell me of those before?"

Again the boy gave no answer, just gazed at him for a split second after flinching away from him when he had placed his hand on his shoulder to push him down onto the sofa, and then opened his mouth, just to close it again when no words came out.

"An answer, if you please, Mr. Potter." Severus demanded, his voice sharp now and the boy really jumped this time, while his face went as pale as the wall in his back and Snape sighed in frustration.

Something really was wrong with the boy. He could tell that Harry had tried to tell him something earlier during the past days, and not just once, but a few times. It really wasn't the first time that he had the feeling that the boy wanted to tell him something but didn't know how or if he should – or could – and he could tell that the brat just had not been able to form the words he needed. And he could tell that somehow the boy was afraid of it. Whatever _it _was and whatever reason for he was afraid of it.

But that was important, damn. The boy had been fixed. He had been fixed with robes, and damn, the boy had been fixed to a point where those robes had left scars. Scars that were barely healed.

Sitting himself onto the coffee table opposite the boy he slowly, very slowly reached a hand out to place it onto the boy's shoulder, hoping the gesture would soften his next words.

"I have been fairly certain that you trusted me, but I see now that it is not so." He said and he could see that Harry wanted to protest, but Snape cut him off. "Not completely, and not in the way you ought to." He added.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry cursed himself, trembling, telling himself that it was from the cold of the dungeons only, but at the same time he knew that it wasn't true as Snape had his fire lit, as always when he was here and he opened his mouth to say something, only to snap it shut again.

He didn't even know what to say.

He had thought that maybe, if he showed Snape, then maybe he would be able to tell him, then maybe he would have a point where he could start – but he had been wrong.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Snape. Somehow he always had trusted the older wizard. But how should he have said something to him? Anything to him? And about this no less? He simply didn't know the words he needed and he simply didn't know how he should get those words out. It simply wasn't possible.

Why did he always have to do the wrong things? Or better question, why did he always have to do things the wrong way? Well, he simply would have to give Snape the letter and for once he was glad that he had written it. For once he was glad that he had known that he wouldn't be able to actually tell Snape what …

"What happened?" Was all Severus was able to ask at the moment and he placed his fingers under the boy's chin, lifted the pale face so the brat had to look at him and fixed him with a severe gaze of his black eyes. He got no answer, the boy just gasped for breath and swallowed thickly, trembling with fear.

Harry was terrified to look up and see the expression on the man's face. There was silence, and silence between the two of them was never a good thing. He looked up and saw that the Potions Master was looking at him with that familiar unreadable expression in his eyes, one that he seemed to wear more and more often these days.

He knew that he simply couldn't tell Snape and with a frustrated sigh he got to his feet, pulling his wrist out of Snape's hand with the action and he paced the room for a few minutes, dimly aware of the fact that Snape too had gotten to his feet, stood now near the sofa, watching his pacing with his face calm. But this calmness somehow it was what made Harry a bit calmer by himself and he stopped, a few feet in front of the older wizard that was his senior partner. Yet at least, but it wouldn't last, he knew.

He simply would have to give Snape the parchment. He could do this. Even if he wasn't able to tell Snape with words, but he could do _this_ … if he just knew how.

Sensing the boy's distress, actually feeling it washing over him, Snape had to force himself to remain standing where he was, his mind running a mile per minute.

First – who had harmed the boy, his brat? And why? He thought of Weasley, but the scars he saw were too old for that. He thought of Death Eaters, but he never had heard them capturing the boy. And he _would_ have heard about it. Not to mention that those scars seemed to be too fresh for that possibility.

Second – why hadn't he told him? Well, that one was easily answered. Of course the boy hadn't told him, fearing his reaction, fearing his anger, fearing being rejected, maybe even fearing being pitied. He knew all the reasons why Harry, why all of them never told by free will.

Third – how deep went those scars? The mental ones especially? Well, that too was easily answered. They went deep, maybe deeper than he liked to admit. The boy had been fixed, and there was nearly only one reason as to why. Suddenly he wasn't able to suppress a dangerously low and angry growl, causing the teenager to flinch again, to take a step back while looking up at him startled.

"Easy, brat." He gently said. "Calm down, I am not angry at _you_. I am just startled and I am worried. Just tell me what has happened and we will see how to go on from there?"

But again, no answer came besides of the boy opening his mouth, closing it and then shaking his head before swallowing heavily and averting his eyes.

But then Potter reached into his robe and when his hand came back he held the parchment he had been writing in the kitchen earlier in his trembling fingers. He looked at it for a moment, looking up at him, nearly helplessly, and then he took a step forward, extending the parchment, only to retreat again when he – Snape – stepped forwards too to take it.

Closing his eyes the older wizard sighed in frustration at the fear Harry displayed towards him right now. Had he pushed his brat too far in his attempt to make his point? Had he somehow gotten the words over the wrong way? He had told him that he wanted to know when the brat was in trouble, or in pain, or afraid. He had told him that it was important for him to know. But had his brat somehow misunderstood his words? He knew that – after the neglect at the hands of his relatives – the brat suffered from serious abandonment issues. Did Harry now fear that _he_ would abandon him?

Stupid question. Of course Potter did fear this.

But then Potter once more took a small step towards him, then another one, so close now, but not quite close enough that he could take the parchment without extending his own hand.

If he only could comfort the brat right now! But the emotions, the panic that he felt coming from his submissive was more than just fear and it not only worried him to no end but they washed over him physically painfully and he knew – to reach out in a comforting gesture right now would be the most wrong thing he could do, would only cause the boy to flee in a panic. Slightly leaning forwards, carefully and slowly, he just as slowly extended his hand to place his fingers under the boy's chin, forcing him to look up at him, but once more the boy immediately flinched back and Snape froze in his movements before he slowly pulled his hand back, a nearly sad expression on his face.

And once again he knew that this kind of fear was one he never wanted to inflict onto the students. He wanted to be feared, yes, he had to keep a reputation up after all.

But not like this! Never like this!

And he wanted his brat to feel the anticipation he could inflict onto him during sexual interactions, yes.

But not like this! _Never like this_!

However, when the boy finally had himself back under control – somewhat at least – he cast another unsure gaze at him and then he slowly reached the parchment towards him again, still wordlessly, trembling, an unsure, questioning and nearly begging gaze in his eyes, before his hands went into this complicated knot he meanwhile knew all to well in front of his chest the moment he had taken the parchment from those trembling fingers and the brat quickly took a step backwards, watching him with fear definitely evident in his eyes.

For another moment Snape wondered why Harry would fear him to such an intensity, but then he decided to read the letter first and find out what exactly the problem was. So he lowered his eyes onto the parchment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

_'You often said an important part of this all would be trust and honesty. And that you had to know everything about me in order to keep me safe. And somehow I know that you__'re right. So, I guess there are a few things which you actually should know, which I should tell you. I just do not know where to begin, or how to begin.'_

Well, at least this really didn't sound as if the boy wanted to end their relationship and he was glad for this, but he already had known this, hadn't he? And nevertheless he nearly felt that nothing Harry had written on this blasted parchment could be bad now. But then, looking into the boy's fearful eyes for a moment, he thought otherwise. It definitely _was_ fear he recognized in them. And again he wondered why Harry would fear him. But then he lowered his eyes back onto the parchment in his hands and he continued reading.

_'Well, you know from the occlumency lessons that I lived with my aunt and uncle. _

_Well, that isn't such a secret, really. I guess everyone knows this. However, I know that you often thought I was spoiled by them, that they would give me everything I asked for. But that isn__'t true.'_

Again he looked up and watched the boy in front of him and somehow he didn't want to go on with his reading.

Seeing the fear still evident in the boy's eyes he somehow knew that there _was _more than what he had seen during occlumency. And the thought disturbed him deeply. He already had learned that Harry had not been the spoiled prince he so long had thought him to be. He knew since the occlumency lessons. And he already knew that the boy had been neglected and starved by his relatives, and in a horrible way so. That he had been locked in a small and dark cupboard that was his 'room' for hours and hours, for years. So what exactly did Harry try to tell him now, as he already knew that he was not as spoiled as he had thought?

_'Well, and you __also already know that I didn't get much to eat either, and about the cupboard and such, that they didn't even give me a room and that I went to sleep hungry. But there's more, and I think, I can't hide this any longer. You'd find out anyway and then you would get really angry and end this here. And I don't want this. I don't want to lose you. You're the only one who never lied to me and you're the only one who ever cared. I know that you don't love me, and I also guess I know that you never will, and I can live with that, as long as you care and as long as you accept me to belong to you. But I don't want to lose you.'_

Sighing again and gritting his teeth Snape wanted nothing more than to pull the small Gryffindor that still stood in front of him against his chest and to hold him close for a moment. But at the same time he knew that this would be the most wrong thing he could do right now. Potter right now needed him to be the strong one. So, refusing to acknowledge the question if he loved this damn, blasted Gryffindor for now and refusing to look up at the boy right now he continued reading.

_'Well, what it is I mean, is … Vernon gave me a list of chores each morning before he went to work and if I didn__'t finish this list, what I somehow never managed, … |||_

_### ||| ### ||| ###_

_Well, dunno … _

_### ||| ### ||| ###_

_Damn, I do not want to do this!_

_### ||| ### ||| ###__'_

Well, considering all those signs the brat had drawn between the lines - yes, he really had not wanted doing this. Again he sighed, not sure if he really wanted to know what came next. He knew Potter's ways of writing and he knew that not only this letter was written in a more messy handwriting than each and ever essay he ever had handed in to him, but that the boy had been more than upset while writing. But well - he had known this already while watching him, hadn't he?

'_Sorry …_

_Now, how to explain … _

_### ||| ### ||| ###__'_

The next line was not simply drawn signs but actually a sentence that was crossed out a few times, but he nevertheless could make out the word 'w_ell, ok, he beat me.'_ Words, which caused him to grit his teeth, even if he already had known that they would come the moment he had started reading this blasted letter.

'_Damn! _

_Alright, y__es, he did …_

_### ||| ### ||| ###_

_And I guess that was some of the worst. _

_That was, why I said I would not want to feel pain during – well, you know._

_I'm sorry for not telling you. Earlier. I mean. And for telling you in a letter. _

_I'm just sorry. _

_I __just don't know how to say it._

_I know that it__'s stupid._

_I know that I'm useless for you now, that you don't want me anymore. And I promise, I won't be angry or react in any childish ways. Just, please, do not go back to hating me._

_I know that I would lose you if I wouldn't tell you and you found out later, because you always said that trust and honesty was important and you expected nothing less from me. But I also know that I will lose you __if I tell you as you now know how bad and useless and weak I am. I know I deserved it and it isn't that I want to complain about it. But you said you would have to know and I …_

_Never mind what I do, either way I will lose you. I don__'t want to lose you. You are the only person I trust and you are the only person that is really important to me. But I cannot change it. Neither what happened nor that I'll lose you. Just please, don't go back to hating me. I would not be able to live with that._

_I'm just sorry.'_

That – he had not expected and he noticed his hands that held the parchment trembling before he finally lowered it with a scowl on his face. When he watched the boy in front of him he saw that the fear that had been present in Harry's eyes had changed into something near panic and he tried to get the anger he felt out of his face.

And yes, he was angry, he was _very _angry. But he was not angry at Harry. He was angry at those damn muggles, for beating a child until it wasn't even able to speak about it, until it blamed itself and until it feared – until Harry feared he would lose him because of it, that he – Snape – would abandon him because of this.

He was angry at Albus for placing a child, a one year old toddler at the front steps of an abusive household, not knowing if those people would even keep the child, and then either not checking upon the child or simply not caring about the child being abused.

He was angry at Minerva who was Harry's head of house but never had bothered to look deeper at her students and who never had bothered to look deeper into the families her students came from.

And he was angry at himself for not seeing the signs earlier. He was the head of Slytherin. He was the head of a house full of abused children in the first place and he was used to read all those telltale signs. But he had not done so with Harry.

And now, that he knew it, he recognized them. All of them.

The silent, unsure and hesitant gazes, all those times in which the boy seemed to be unable to give answers, to voice his thoughts, to voice anything at all. How he often didn't answer questions with spoken words but with small gestures like a shaking of his head, or a nod, or a shrugging of his shoulders, a lowering of his head to one side, with facial expressions rather than with words.

The startled and nearly fearful expression sometimes when he thought the situation was difficult, when he thought he was angry, or when he feared the situation might go out of hands. The distance the boy so often sought out. The retreating …

Harry's constant fear, his always tense appearance, the careful and wary eyes with which he watched him, especially his hands. His starved appearance, his tiredness and his exhaustion and the careful movements whenever he came back from the summer break.

And not to mention what display of fear he had witnessed yesterday during their outing in muggle London.

There were a lot of those signs, and he now recognized them. Why hadn't he recognized them earlier?

Suddenly a lot of things made sense to him now.

The boy feared him. Not just in anticipation. Not even just in an uncomfortable way. He really feared him. He feared … Harry actually feared he might raise his hand at him, he might beat him.

Well, he now hat answers to the questions he'd had for the past two weeks.

But at the same time it caused just new questions.

How long had the abuse taken place?

How far had the abuse gone?

What exactly had this abominable muggle done to the boy?

Was it only beatings and neglect or was it sexual abuse as well?

How deep was the boy affected?

Ok, that last one was a stupid question. Partly. As were all the other questions.

Of course the boy was affected deeply, he could see it from every single one of his reactions. And the scars around the boy's wrists told him enough. And if _that _was true, then the abuse had been taking place for some time. Abuse never started from one day to the other. What meant for not only a few weeks or months, but probably for a few years. And no one had noticed. And he still didn't know how far this abuse had gone.

Again he thought about the boy's words, that he wouldn't want to feel fear. That he didn't want to feel pain. It made more and more sense by the moment now and he cursed Lily's muggle sister and her husband, and not for the first time. Perhaps Harry would never fully trust, perhaps the damage was rooted too deeply and it surprised him how deeply distressed he felt as a result of that possibility.

The boy maybe never would trust him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry was watching Snape while the older wizard read the parchment and by the darkening of the older wizard's face that went paler with each line he read he was glad that he had written all of this down. He wouldn't have survived the first few sentences if he had told him with words, he was sure of that.

But then the dark eyes looked up at him, not cold, and not emotionless either, but calm somehow. Calm and angry, and he took another step back, just to be on the safe side. An angry Snape was already dangerous, but a _calm_ and angry Snape surely was … well … just the more dangerous. His senior partner right now looked as if … Snape looked like he had looked back in fifth year after the incident with the pensive.

Swallowing dryly he took another step back. This really didn't look so good.

Snape watched Harry retreat another step and he knew, would he now try to physically comfort him, the boy would not only refuse it, but he would have a full blown panic attack at his hands. Not what he needed right now. He had to keep up his professionalism for some time longer. And he needed to know more.

"I want to see the rest of your body, Harry." He finally said, increasing the grip he had on the letter until the parchment actually crumbled in his fingers while watching the boy who shook his head, a look of pure horror on his face.

Well, he had known this reaction would come. It always came.

"Remove your shirt, Mr. Potter!" He growled darkly. "Now!"

Snape's voice was hard, steely even, but somehow it seemed to Harry that the man was forcing it to be that way, as if it even were an effort to make it sound like that. The man was clearly thrown off balance, and the very thought of this threw Harry off balance in return. He couldn't seem to focus, couldn't push past the fear he felt suffocating in and he couldn't do anything else than slowly shaking his head.

The Slytherin head of house had known that Harry would refuse yet again, that it wouldn't be so easy, and he had been right, the boy only shook his head and his arms came up to be wrapped around himself as if to protect himself, as if to keep himself together, as if to avoid falling apart and the Potions Master sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. He would never get used to those things, to those moments, to have one of those children in front of him.

And the fact that this time it was his submissive didn't make it any better. On the contrary, it made it just worse.

"Neither do you have anything to fear from me, Harry, nor do you have to be embarrassed of being beaten by your former caretakers." He said, his voice still calm and gentle, despite what he felt. "Your muggle relations are the ones that should be afraid of my wrath and that should be ashamed about beating a helpless child that resides under their care. And now remove your shirt, Mr. Potter, and I won't ask you again!"

He didn't like to be that demanding and stern in such a situation, never had been, but at the same time he always had known that all those children that ended up in the house he was head of needed a calm, composed and stern man that had the upper hand of the situation instead of someone who didn't know what to do by himself. One of the reasons he was the way he was – a cold, calm and collected teacher, stern and always in control of the situation, even if it meant that he was unloved by three quarters of the students. He didn't care, as long as his Slytherins knew that they could depend on him, always – and they did know.

And Harry would learn that too, he silently promised to himself.

Snape did not move, only watched him with his dark eyes, nearly piercing him with those dark eyes and resigned, Harry slowly lifted his hands. Snape's eyes seemed to track his every move, and Harry couldn't keep up eye contact. As his fingers took hold of the first button of his shirt he kept his eyes trained on the floor.

He did not see the Potions Master's dark eyes flaring and his hands balling into fists.

Snape's gaze wandered along the boy's lithe form. Even if he now watched the boy's eating habits since a few days, made sure that the boy ate regularly, he still was much too thin for his liking. He huffed. Of course the brat was. A few days of regular meals couldn't undo months and years of starvation, especially not as still the boy wasn't able to eat full meals yet. The brat definitely was still underweight. And now, seeing the boy struggling with the buttons of this damn shirt, bony fingers and slender hands trembling, it was just the more plain.

Unable to watch any further he took a careful step closer and slowly placing the fingers of his right under the teen's chin he forced the boy to look up at him and he locked his black eyes into the green ones, held the boy's gaze with his own while he replaced his hand from the teen's chin to his shoulder before he ran his other hand down to the buttons of the shirt, opening them with slow but deliberate movements, keeping his left on the boy's shoulder to keep him from breaking away, from turning and running away.

Looking down at the teenager he once again realized just how small the Gryffindor was. Most of his sixth years boys were only a few inches smaller than him while Harry didn't even reach his chin. In fact, the boy's head just reached his chest and thus was at least a head smaller than the other boys his age.

Harry looked up at him, the fear in his green eyes deepening, incomprehensibly, while he slowly but easily undid the buttons Harry had been struggling with. He would not back away and he would not allow Harry to hide or to retreat either. This precise scene should have had enfolded itself five years earlier and it would have if the boy had been in his house. He would have known in Harry's first year and he would have been able to do something against it. He would have been able to keep the boy out of …

The moment the first few buttons were open and Snape could see the teen's chest clearly he gritted his teeth at the cuts and bruises that covered this area of the teenager's body as well and when he shoved the shirt off the small shoulders he nearly growled. He had to close his eyes for another moment when he finally held the shirt in his hands and he saw Harry's upper body entirely. The front of it at least.

He had known the boy was thin, but he actually was thinner as he had thought, visibly underweight, his arms nothing more than sticks on his side and he could make out every single rib. The thin chest was covered in bruises and cuts as was the front of the teen's shoulders and the boy's flanks. Only Potter's throat, his collarbones he had touched a few evenings ago during one of their conversations, and the boy's neck seemed un-bruised.

The Potions Master took a deep breath and cast a dark glance into the pale face that was a mask of fear before he released his breath slowly and lowering his eyes back onto the scars he took both thin shoulders and turned the boy, followed the cuts with his eyes towards the boy's back and he barely was able to suppress a low gasp of shock at what he found there.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

One hand still on his shoulder, Snape placed his shirt over the backrest of the sofa and then slowly his other hand went to the scars, running up and down his back, and the way he traced them Harry knew and tried to jerk away but the older wizard held him in place, even when he continued to struggle.

He didn't want Snape seeing them, seeing how ugly he was. Too skinny and too scarred, and he knew that it was ugly because he had seen himself in the mirror, in the Gryffindor boys' bathroom, when he had come back to Hogwarts. He was ugly skinny, scarred, and pale, and his eyes had too dark circles underneath them. But he always had looked like this, sometimes worse, sometimes better. But he never had been muscular and well built like some of the other Gryffindors. And he knew, he never would be.

The moment Snape had seen the teen's back, he again had to suppress a dark growl but having the boy struggling so desperately in front of him now to get out of his grip, he had to grit his teeth, his fingers that gently ran down one of the many cuts and bruises actually trembling, while he studied them.

Harry's entire back was covered in those scars, cuts such as the ones on some of his Slytherins had on their wrists and he knew that only a blade had caused them. There were scars that definitely had been caused from beatings with various beating instruments. He had seen such scars often enough to even tell what beating instruments had been used and that they had been used in an unprofessional way. Used without thinking and only to express anger and hate. And suddenly he remembered a comment Harry had made once during one of their conversations, a comment that right now made sense to him.

_"Surely I did not mention a beating, Mr. Potter." _He had said. _"I mentioned a caning. And those two words do not mean the same. A beating is senseless thrashing with hands, fists, and whatever beating instruments one might find. It is not what covers behaviour in BDSM. A caning is an art. It is need of skill there and practice. Otherwise you could hurt your partner severely."_

_"Just ask my uncle, he has practice enough."_ Potter had mumbled incoherently enough so he hadn't been sure he had heard correctly.

_"I beg your pardon?" _He had asked, just to be on the safe side. _"I did not understand that last one."_

But Potter hadn't given him an answer aside from a "nothing, sir".

And now he knew that he indeed had heard correctly, and now the comment made sense to him. A sickening clear sense and he had to close his eyes for a moment before he looked back at those scars.

Some of them were old, years old, and some not older than a month or two. Yet – as some of them were infected they looked as if they were fresh, and Severus easily noticed that some of them had been scratched open regularly, that they were not healed yet and he sighed, closing his eyes for a third moment, glad that Harry stood with his back to him, not seeing his distress.

He began to understand. He began to understand why it was that Harry actually feared him. That Harry might trust him, yes, but that he nevertheless feared him, his hand, feared he might beat him. A child that had been beaten like this by his relatives of course would fear further beatings from any other persons.

He might not have been the most favourite professor at any school, and surely he might have taken great pleasure in keeping up his nasty reputation, and surely if anyone ever would have accused him of being a pleasant man this anyone would not have survived the day, would most probably have died a very slow and painful death. But even _he_ had his limits. And locking a child into a small and dark cupboard for hours, for days and nights, neglecting and starving a small child, and abusing a helpless child that took it all silently and without complaining while working itself into exhaustion just to try and please those people who abused him, _that_ definitely pushed him very far beyond those limits.

His hand still placed gently on the thin shoulders he turned the boy in front of him again so he could look at him and he gritted his teeth as he saw the look of fear blazing in Harry's eyes, the look of … well, Harry was steeling himself for the rejection as it seemed.

"How long?" Snape's gaze pierced through him and Harry knew, instinctively, that if he lied now, this would all be over. Well, it most likely was over anyway, but he knew that right now he simply shouldn't say anything than the truth to the older wizard. Snape hadn't killed him thus far, not yet, at least.

And nevertheless all he wanted doing right now was to run from the room and to hide in one of the many corridors and empty classroom of the castle until Snape was done with all his questions he was sure would come.

"Easy, brat!" Snape whispered, gathering the teen into his arms and holding him until the boy stopped squirming. He had learned by now that the term '_brat'_ he had given him had been welcomed by Harry rather quickly and thus he used this term right now to try and make his point – that Harry still _was_ his brat – without having to say it right now, not trusting his voice within a complete sentence right now and suddenly he could understand why Harry had written it all down.

But never mind, he wouldn't abandon him because of this and he growled darkly, startling the boy in his arms who again tried to flinch back.

"Hush, brat!" He whispered, tightening his grip on the smaller form. "Everything will be alright. I have you. You are safe here and I won't harm you. And neither will I abandon you."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Will Snape continue his relationship with Harry the way it started? Or will he change their relationship completely?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	14. don't you dare

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_But never mind, he wouldn't abandon him because of this and he growled darkly, startling the boy in his arms who again tried to flinch back._

_"Hush, brat!" He whispered, tightening his grip on the smaller form. "Everything will be alright. I have you. You are safe here and I won't harm you. And neither will I abandon you."_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter fourteen**

**Don't you dare!**

He held the teenager a few more minutes in his arms, not only to calm Harry down but himself as well, gently running his fingers up and down the scarred back, softly running his fingers of the other hand through the mop of unruly black hair before finally pulling away and cursing the boy's muggle relatives through all seven gates of hell and back at the flinch Harry displayed yet again.

Sighing heavily and closing his eyes for the umpteenth time today to get himself back under control he gently curled his fingers around the boy's upper arm and led him towards the sofa gently forced him down until he sat there, defeated.

"Wait here, Harry." He then whispered, his voice rough and he had to force the words out. "I will be back momentarily. Some of those cuts are partly reopened due to scratching at them I guess and we need something to cover them with." And he needed a calming draught. As well as did Harry who was in no state to give him just one single answer, but he needed answers.

He moved slowly and carefully until he was far enough away from the boy so he would not startle him and then he quickly went into his personal laboratory and closed the door. After casting a quick silencing charm he took the next bottle that came into his hands and threw it against the wall opposite him, just like he had done a few days ago, but this time the clanking sound it made when it collided with the wall was definitely satisfying and he took a second bottle to throw it and then another one until he was back to his calm and indifferent self – and his laboratory nearly destroyed.

But well, he was back to his calm and indifferent self – outwardly at least, and that was all that mattered. But inwardly he was seething with rage and fury, and more so as he had _seen_ the all those scars all over the teen's thin body.

Scars that partly were fresh, but scars that partly were years old. Again he growled darkly and threw one last bottle against the wall before he took the vials with the potions he right now needed and then left his laboratory and went back to the boy that was his.

"Hush, brat." He whispered when he came back and the boy flinched at his approach and slowly he placed a gentle hand on the teen's arm, trying to still its trembling. One look into Harry's face showed him enough about the emotions and fears that washed over the boy, he didn't need the connection of the necklace.

"First, to ease what seemed to be your deepest fear, I will not abandon you just because of what you revealed to me today." He said while sitting back at the coffee table and reaching a small vial at the boy. "A calming potion, take it." He watched Harry downing the potion before he reached out another vial.

"A general healing potion." He continued sternly. "Some of the cuts near your shoulder blades are infected, I guess due to being scratched open repeatedly." He held out a third potion, knowing that Harry still was too thin for using too much potions on him and the boy still needed the stomach easing potion and the nutrient potion, but right now he didn't care. He needed Harry as calm as possible as he needed answers and he needed Harry pain free as he had to take care of some of the infected scars. This was not the kind of pain he ever intended to inflict onto the boy.

"A pain easing potion." He explained when the boy took this vial as well and downed it obediently before the Potions Master took this vial back too and placed the small glass containers beside him onto the table.

"Second, I do thank you, that you showed me now." Snape then said, placing his fingers underneath the boy's chin and lifting his head so he had to look at him. "I do understand why you never said anything to anyone who could have been of help. But I still wonder why you did not tell me earlier. This is nothing harmless, Harry. This is serious business. Really serious."

He watched the boy who just helplessly shook his head, trying to avoid his eyes, without success.

"Why, Harry?" He asked, his voice still low and gentle, but stern. "Do you trust me so little?"

He could see the startled expression on the boy's face, that changed into a quick headshake while the boy opened his mouth, just to close it again and lifting his hands in a helpless manner before he finally broke free from his grip on the teen's chin and leaned his forehead atop his hands, slightly leaning forwards.

"Harry." He said to gain the teenager's attention and placed his hand on the bony shoulder, ignoring the flinch, running his thumb over one of those damn scars. "I do not blame you, Harry." He said. "I only demand answers. There are a few things I need to know so I can help you."

He actually could feel the desperation washing over the connection and he sighed.

"Listen to me now, Harry." He said while sitting beside the boy onto the sofa, turning the boy on his shoulders so he had Harry sitting with his back turned towards him. "And it is important that you understand."

He summoned his medical potions kit and waited until Harry gave him a nod before he continued. "Some of your injuries are not healed completely yet." He said while opening the jar with the healing balm and starting to cover those, ignoring the trembling of the muscles beneath his hand and the stiffening of the boy's shoulders the moment he touched him. "I guess you have scratched at them when they healed and started to itch, thus scratched them open repeatedly. Now they however are infected and some of them badly so." He moved on to another one of the infected and barely healed cuts. "The lesser infected ones I can treat with a simple healing salve and they will be alright. But there is one of them that is worse and I have to reopen the cut to clean it out."

The boy turned sharply and looked startled at him, his green eyes large with fear, shaking his head slightly but continuously.

"Hush, brat." He said, placing his hand onto the boy's shoulder. He hated it doing such things and he hated it just the more as it was his brat this time and he cursed the Dursleys once again. "I will not lie to you, it might hurt a bit, but it only will hurt a moment. And with the pain easing potion I have given you, you barely will even notice. I won't even use a blade but a simple spell. The cut itself won't even hurt as much as the cleaning afterwards."

But still Harry shook his head and tried to get out of his grip and he tightened the grip of his fingers on Harry's shoulder.

"Calm down, Harry." He quietly but sternly said. "What are you more afraid of? The cut or the cleaning out of this blasted injury?"

The Potions Master watched Harry opening his mouth, the shoulders still tense and the shaking fingers curled into fists, but nothing happened and with a frustrated shaking of his head the teenager closed his mouth again and looked aside, folding into himself like a jack-knife.

"Harry!" Snape said sharply, causing said teenager to rear back violently and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He really should take a deep breath, calm down and get the anger he still felt under control. It wasn't Harry's fault after all. So, closing his eyes he _did _take a deep breath and slowly released it after a moment.

"Harry." He repeated more calmly while opening his eyes and released the boy's shoulder, took Harry's hand and stroke his thumb over the scar that ran around the wrist. "Please, talk to me."

But once more the boy opened his mouth, closed it, and acted rather as if he were a fish stranded on the shore. He released the teen's wrist and was just about to grab the other one when he noticed Harry moving his hands, carefully and slowly, only slightly, hesitantly, and he needed a second to realize what exactly the boy did. But then he actually could _feel_ _himself _paling.

"I'm sorry. I tried to tell you."

Severus looked at Harry in near shock. _That_ – was sign language. And Harry used it.

He had to fight hard now to keep his indifferent mask in place, knowing that Harry needed him calm and in control right now.

But if Harry was able to use sign language, then he had done so before. And if he had done so before, then he either knew someone unable to speak or hear, or he had been in need of doing so before. And considering the situation right now then he doubted the former possibility.

In other words – his brat not only was unable to say what he was thinking from time to time because he simply didn't find the words he needed. No. It actually meant that his brat wasn't able to _speak at all_ in situations that had grown over his head just like now. And for only Merlin knew how long - or how often.

He opened his eyes after having them closed for a moment and seriously gazed at Harry who seemed to get more and more fearful with each second that passed and backed away from him, his right hand forming a fist and coming up for one single sign that meant "I'm sorry." And then stilled.

When Severus finally regained his composure and overcame his shock, he quickly grabbed the teenager's hands to still their trembling and to hinder Harry at moving away from him any further.

"First." He gently said. "There is no need to be sorry for anything, brat, as I already have informed you – it is _not_ your fault. Second, yes, I am able to understand sign language. And third, I do not mind. That is the most important part here. I – do – _not_ – mind! Is that clear, Mr. Potter?" He sternly asked, waiting for the boy's hesitant nod before he continued.

"I know that you have tried. I noticed that you tried to tell me something during the past few days now and I know that you tried to tell me something last night. But most importantly at the present time, Harry, what exactly is wrong with you? Why are you using sign language? And are you not able to form voiced words?"

Well, the only thing Harry momentarily could do as it seemed, was to shake his head while lowering his eyes.

"Alright, Harry." He said, knowing that he couldn't take his usual approach when dealing with an abused student. "Alright. We will deal with that. Right now, just tell me what do you fear more? Me reopening the cut over your shoulder blade? Or me cleaning out the injury? And you are allowed to use signs, as long as you communicate with me at all."

It took the teenager another few moments to get ready for another signed answer, but then he took a deep breath.

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"The first one." Harry answered, cursing himself to hell and back. Why was he always so stupid? And why was he always so weak? And why was he always such a coward? And now Snape knew what a weak and stupid and freakish idiot he was. And surely Snape …

But then Snape quietly spoke, got him out of his self blaming. "Thank you, Harry." He said. "First for communicating at all in such a situation and second for giving a true answer. But I honestly promise that it will not hurt as much as you might fear right now. You have had a pain easing potion and I will use a simple spell. It is the cleaning that might hurt a bit. Are you afraid of the cut itself or of the pain?" He then asked, already guessing the answer.

And as he had thought, the teenager again told him that it was the first one he feared more and he sighed. That was something that simply had to be done.

"Turn." He simply said. "I will do this one right now, then we are over with this. You do not have to fear me using a blade, I will use a simple spell only, I promise. Just try and relax as good as possible. It will be over in a second."

Using his wand he placed his right hand onto the teenager's shoulder in a firm grip to keep him in place and then he traced the scar with the tip of his wand. He noticed the boy stiffening the moment his wand touched the skin over Harry's shoulder blade, drawing a quick breathe and holding it, the entire small form trembling while a slight film of perspiration formed over the teen's back. And as it definitely could not have hurt he knew it was perspiration caused by plain fear only.

Quickly he murmured the spell, gritting his teeth at the small cry of fear Harry gave away the moment he felt his skin breaking and the next moment Harry had been moving away from him, bringing his upper body downwards, again folding into himself like a jack-knife and the Potions Master was glad that he had used a spell. The spell reacted to the traced line of his wand and never mind a flinch or a violent movement the cut was drawn as it had been by the wand before. There was no danger of injuring the boy further and needlessly because of a sharp movement he made.

He didn't even bother with getting his brat upright again but simply made quick work of cleaning the infected cut and then closed it with a spell and covered it with the healing salve. Cleaning away the blood that had been running down from the cut he'd made Snape placed his hand onto the boy's still trembling shoulder and then pulled him back, not caring the teen's perspiration soaked back, until he had him leaning against his chest.

"Hush now." He softly said, running his other hand over Harry's forehead, noticing it was just as soaked was the teen's back and he pulled his head towards his shoulder. "We are done here and you can release your breath now."

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It had taken him a few minutes until he had calmed down, until he had been able to breathe calmly again, until he even had noticed that it had been over, that he was leaning against Snape's chest and all he now felt was embarrassment. It really hadn't hurt, just like Snape had promised. And he truly had managed to make a fool out of himself today.

"I'm sorry." He said in his damn signs, hesitantly, not sure how Snape would react and what he would think. "You must think I'm the most stupid child. I'm sorry I wasted your time." He added with the intention of standing up, he didn't think the man would want to be with him now. The man wanted a junior partner in a relationship and not a child. Not a baby.

However Snape moved quicker than him and caught his arm and before he had the chance to stand, he pulled him back against his chest.

"You are not acting like a child Harry." He whispered. "What I have heard the past few days about your – _family_ and what you have told me right now, not to mention what I have seen with my own eyes, is enough for me to know that those monsters have done the most cruel things and no one, especially not a child should ever have to go through such. So of course you are reacting in a frightened way. On the contrary, Harry, I would think it strange if you would not do so. So stop worrying, we will deal with it. I now at least know the reason behind your strange behaviour you sometimes show and now we can work on that."

"But don't you see it? I haven't received anything that I didn't deserve because …"

"That is not true Harry, _no one_ has the right to beat and starve a child like what I have seen right now, like your so called relatives did to you." The Potions Master growled darkly. He should have known that Harry still would see it that way.

"But they did because I always did strange things and because I didn't complete my chores and because I'm a freak and a burden. They didn't want me but they had to take me."

"Harry! I told you before – you are _not_ a freak or a burden! The strange things you did simply had been accidental magic each and every wizarding child displays at a certain age and I rather guess that you were expected to do an unrealistic amount of work especially for a child, otherwise you would have managed, I am sure of that."

"But I …"

"But nothing Harry, you have been a child not a slave as the Dursley's made you believe. And never mind if they had to put up with you, they not only were expected to care for you as they did with their own son, but they even got a salary from the ministry for you too."

"But I cannot be cared for, I cannot be loved!" The damn, insufferable and insolent brat told him with his hands. "They always told me that I cannot be loved, that no one would …"

"You _are_ loved, Potter!" Snape took the teen's shoulders and slightly shook him. "And the fact that you so blatantly do not see it actually worries me. Peoples _do_ love you, Harry. A _lot_ of people do. _I_ do!"

"No!" Potter broke away from him. "Can't you see it? I am a weakling with stupid fears and …"

"Stop!" The Potions Master nearly screamed, breathing heavily, his dark eyes blazing dangerously and the boy immediately stopped the movements of his hands. He waited a moment until he had his temper back under control before he gripped the teen's shoulders again.

"First, you are not a _weakling_." He said, much calmer now. "No one, absolutely _no one_, who endured such an abuse as you have been through, and for years no less, and then has to go back to the same abusive household every summer, is a weakling. Remember that, Mr. Potter, and remember it well!" He waited for a nod from the teen in front of him, even if it only was a shocked one.

"Second, I do not think that your fears are stupid." He then continued. "Everyone has his or her own fears. Even I do have them, as have your friends. I only shall say – spiders or snakes. Your fears might keep you alive one day, Mr. Potter. We all have them and we all need them. We only should not allow them to take the upper hand of us. Is that too understood, Mr. Potter?" Again he waited for a nod before he continued.

"And third – and most importantly I dare say – someone who is willing and ready to get into a relationship with the … cold and dark bastard that is your potions professor out of the dungeons … and to accept said person as the dominant part in a BDSM relationship, never can be a weakling or a coward. Alone this acceptance needs some bravery and strength. And _you_ have done so, Harry, what actually has made me proud of you, even if you cannot see it right now. Is that too understood, Harry?"

Well, he should have known that he would gain a quick shaking of the teen's head and he sighed. Of course the brat didn't see it this way. What bothered himself more however … well, he had known that handling Harry would not be easy. But this – he wasn't ready to drive the teenager into a full blowing panic attack during a session. Of course he wouldn't abandon the boy because of this. He just would have to try and have a 'normal' relationship with him. He just would have to leave the BDSM parts out of it.

"In light of resent events, I however am willing to keep every BDSM parts out of this relationship for the time being as I do not wish to drive you into a panic attack during each session that might remind you of …"

Harry just gaped at his professor, shaking his head. Of all the things he had expected Snape to say, of all the things he thought Snape would come up with, that wasn't even on the list. And he was not ready to do so, to change anything they had. And not only because he feared that Snape might be abandoning him then but because – he didn't know why exactly – but he knew that he himself had started to understand and he had started to actually enjoy the anticipation and the strain, and again he shock his head.

"I don't want this!" He interrupted the Potions Master.

Snape blinked at the teen in front of him. What did the boy mean, he didn't want this? He had not wanted this in the beginning if he remembered correctly and giving Harry a curious glance he lowered his head to one side slightly.

But the boy simply placed his arms on the coffee table and his head onto his arms, hiding his face and he knew that he right now should be waiting. Harry finally lifted his head and gazed at him, but still no answer came for a long time. Until finally the boy sighed. He watched him taking the parchment he had reached him earlier and turned it, taking a pencil he always had laying on the coffee table and began to write before he shoved the parchment on the table over to him.

_"You have shown me something I don't want to miss anymore. You cared, and you _

_I didn't want this at first, but I trust you and I want this to continue. I want more of what you showed me. And I want it with you. I can't explain it, but it feels right. _

_I do __not__ want to stop this."_

Harry watched him anxiously but Snape was hardly aware of it, baffled as he was by the frail trust Potter placed in him. For one moment he sat frozen before his arm moved and he wrapped it around Potter, folding the brat to him.

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It was nearly two hours later and they had talked more about the abuse Harry had been through, Snape asking a lot of questions, a lot of questions that had been important to him, but that the teen only reluctantly had answered as he had known from the beginning. Questions as to how far the abuse had went, questions as to if Harry had been abused sexually as well and he'd had to grit his teeth at the boy's answers.

**Flashback**

_"Harry, those scars around your wrists, they do tell me enough." He sternly answered the boy's headshake at his question. "There are only few reasons as to why your uncle would have fixed you in the first place."_

_"They are not from that."_

_"Then do tell me, Harry, from what are they?" He had to fight hard to not seethe at the boy. "Why then had your uncle felt the need to fix you? And do me the pleasure to not tell me that those scars are not from being fixed. Do not insult my intelligence, nor yours."_

_"They are." The teenager slowly admitted, not looking at him. "But not because of that."_

_"What then had been the reason your uncle fixed you?" Snape growled darkly._

_"The beatings." Harry admitted after a few moments with a sigh, still not looking at him but at the floor to his left._

_"You mean your uncle has fixed you while he beat you?" He asked, glad for once that the boy didn't look at him and thus didn't see the anger on his face. "And to a point where they left scars?"_

_"It was my own fault." Potter had the nerve to answer. "I just was too weak to take them without struggling. I just … it just hurt too much … and …"_

_"Listen to me you idiot boy!" Snape snapped, not caring right now that he startled the teen. "Neither of what has happened at this blasted house of your uncle's is your fault and if I ever hear such nonsense from you again, then you will find yourself in much more trouble than you ever could get into with this blasted uncle of yours. I won't beat you, but I promise, you will find yourself at the receiving end of my anger. None – of this – is your fault! And surely you are not weak either just because you have not been able to take such beatings without trying to struggle away! This bastard draw blood to a point where he left layers of scars on you! No one would have been able to take those without trying to struggle away! Is that understood, Mr. Potter?"_

**End flashback**

Well, the boy had looked at him startled and fearfully, but he had nodded.

And the boy had said he hadn't been abused sexually, but Snape soon had found out that this damn, blasted, unspeakable and horrible muggle might not have touch the boy, but had made the boy touching _him_, and since years so. A fact that _had _been sexual abuse and he had told Harry so. And honestly, he could understand that the boy had been unable to speak about it. Everyone would be unable to speak about such what that boy had been through.

And right now Harry was clinging to his robes as if to a lifeline and Snape who held him in his arms placed his chin atop the unruly black hair. "We will deal with this, Harry." He continued to whisper. "You will be quite alright. I promise. I shall not abandon you because of what this blasted uncle of yours has done to you as it is not your fault and we will deal with this."

He held Harry until the teenager had calmed enough that he began to apologize again. For crying this time and Snape shook his head, holding the teenager at arms length so he could look at him.

"There is no need to apologize for crying either, Mr. Potter." He said, reaching forward to brush the tears off the young face. "I have one last question for now though, and I want a true answer." He said, gazing into two pleading eyes. "How long, Harry? How long has it gone like this?"

There was more than a minute until Harry finally gave his answer.

"Sometimes I think forever, but I can't remember. It always was like this." Harry's hands shook and Snape nodded before pulling the teenager back towards him until Harry's upper body lay in his lap.

"Thank you, Harry." He said, brushing some of the dark locks out of the pale face and with a new wave of frustration he noticed that his own fingers trembled. "You do not know how important you have become to me in such a short time, Harry." He whispered, worry edged in his voice and in his dark eyes.

He knew that Harry wouldn't be able to get anything down right now and so he allowed the boy to exhaustedly fall asleep in his lap while his fingers unconsciously brushed through the dark hair and over the pale forehead, thinking. This boy – this young man, was like a tangled rope. One could see the edges so perfectly, even the ends could be found but the large knot in the middle always concealed its true form.

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It was in the middle of the night right now and Harry hadn't been able to sleep when he had went into his own bed after awaking in Snape's arms – yet again – sometime during the late evening on the sofa. And right now he was leaning with his forehead against the cold stone of one of the walls in the man's living area, his eyes closed and trying to shut out the onslaught of all those thoughts and emotions that were currently attacking his mind without giving him a rest.

Merlin's pants – would he ever be able to get all of those things out of his mind? Out of his head? He was so wound up, so upset and so damn scared by the whole incident with Snape today that he surely never would be able to ever sleeping again. He really had lost it today, damn, he even had fallen back into his stupid inability to speak! And that was just as worse as Snape's discovery and Snape's questions at all. It was just …

Everything was screwed up and he had fallen apart at the edges – in front of Snape!

Damn, he always had been so strong, taking all those beatings and taking the hunger and all those hours in his cupboard without complaining, knowing that complaining would get him nowhere, would only get him beatings. So – why was it so different now? Why wasn't he so strong anymore now? Was it because Snape was the stronger one here? Was it because Snape was his senior partner? His dominant counterpart? Was it because Snape had taken over not only control but responsibility as well? Was it maybe because the older wizard didn't accept anybody beating him up? Was protecting him? Or was it because somebody was starting to take care of him, picking up all the pieces that Harry couldn't even remember ever breaking off of him?

He continued to stare at the ragged stones his forehead was leaning against, at the lines that nearly wrote the stones' history while he was replaying the event over and over in his mind as he looked unblinkingly ahead at the stones in front of his eyes.

If he ever got out of this unscathed, then he never again would piss Snape of, he promised himself, if only the man forgot this particular stupid day and what had happened.

He stiffened when he felt a blanket settle around his shoulders and a voice close to his ear that spoke gently, nearly worriedly.

"Are you trying to catch your death deliberately, standing out here with only your pyjamas and not even socks on your feet?" The man asked in his typical Snape-manner that always had kept him so calm during the past two weeks. "Or do you simply have no sense?"

Closing his eyes he leaned back against the man for a moment before he turned and looked up into those dark eyes that seemed to pierce him with their intensity, an intensity that nearly made him dizzy for another moment.

"Can't sleep." He finally answered, his voice soft, only a whisper, but with some satisfaction he noticed that he actually _had _used his voice. It wasn't as bad then as it had been sometimes in the past.

Snape, in his usual Snape-manner, simply gave him a curt nod, his indifferent mask not moving, showing no emotion, his dark eyes never changing.

"I will get you a dreamless sleep potion." The Potions Master simply said in his usual emotionless voice, but all of this nearly cold behaviour Snape always displayed, his indifference and his professionalism, made Harry feel less exposed he thought while he went into the bathroom to get a bit cold water on his still too hot face. He simply felt safe while being in this snarky man's presence. In _his _snarky man's presence.

When he came back he found Snape sitting on the sofa, staring strangely ahead of him. Not that he looked different than before, not that he looked different than always. His face a mask of indifference, his black robes old fashioned and aloof – damn, his entire appearance as unapproachable as always. And nevertheless – he was afraid of this far away and nearly troubled look in those otherwise emotionless dark eyes.

Slowly he approached the man, felt his own panic rise while he knelt onto the sofa beside the older wizard, not sure if he could dare touching him, but then finally deciding to do it, even if Snape might bite his head off at the contact. So he reached out and placed his hand over the Potions Master's forearm, softly, slowly and unsurely.

He just needed the man calm, he needed him, but he needed him calm, he didn't know what to do without the calmness the man always radiated.

"Please." He whispered, softly shaking the Potions Master's arm, as if trying to get him awake and out of his troubles, or his anger, or his … his … whatever it was the Potions Master was in. "Please, don't. I promise, it will go away, it always does. It isn't that bad, really. And I'm fine now. And everything else will just go away, as always."

He knew that his words didn't work with the older wizard the moment he turned his head and looked at him, his anger really dissipating for a moment and his eyes going soft, just to come back with full force and more passionately than ever before.

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"Don't you dare, Potter!" He roared furiously, not caring that he startled the boy that was kneeling beside him on the sofa. "Don't you dare playing this down, Potter!"

Snape then stood up, still growling angrily, and marched away across the room, halting when he reached the fireplace to lay one hand, clenched like a fist, on the mantle, the fingers of his other hand reaching up to run their way through his hair as he fought to control his temper.

How could this boy play this down so easily? He had seen all the scars that covered the boy's body. He had seen the bruises that still lingered there. He had seen how thin this boy was. And he still could see how tired and exhausted he was. Still not able to eat properly, still not able to stay awake the entire day without taking a nap.

The boy's body looked worse than what he had seen throughout the years from victims of the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters. And he played it down as if it were nothing? Did his own safety really mean so little to the brat that he did not think anyone would be concerned for him?

With a heavy sigh his temper slowly cooled and Snape realised that he was probably closer to the truth as he dared to admit. His own safety in fact _did_ mean so little to himself. But it was hardly surprising as the boy did not think anyone would be concerned for him. For the past fourteen years this child had been at best ignored and locked away, and at worst beaten and starved by those in whose _'care'_ he had been placed. No one had ever seemed to care about what had happened to Harry and so of course Harry did not care either.

Well, it was high time he was made to realise that, not only were there people who cared about him, but that there were even people who actually loved him.

Turning back towards the boy he was startled to see said boy standing beside him. Ready to retreat, ready to flinch away, ready to bolt from the room, his muscles tense and his face a mask of concentration, but he stood there.

"Please." The boy whispered, not only his tense face holding desperation and fear, but his voice too, not only his small and skinny frame and the hand that hesitantly touched his arm trembling, but his voice too, and he couldn't help swallowing at the brat's – at _his_ brat's – display.

"Please." The teen repeated. "Please. I don't play this down, but I also know that it can't be helped, that it can't be changed. And I also know that it will go away, just like it always does. It isn't the first time after all. And I need you, I want you. I want someone who sees me, Harry, and not the Boy Who Lived. I know that you won't be gentle, but I know that you will be careful. I don't want someone to have … uhm … well … sex …" The brat nearly chocked over the word and the blush that covered his face was more than just adorable. "… with me only because I'm the Boy Who Lived. I want to explore everything with someone that is … well … uhm … dominant … but … but who cares about me at the same time. And someone who takes my feelings and what I want into consideration too. And you … you said … I mean … I just want you. I trust you. And you never pitied me. I know you will be harsh, I know you won't be gentle. But I know that you care. And I trust you. I want you. I can live with the fact that you never will love me, as long as you care."

Something twisted in Snape's chest as he heard those words. This not so simple but well thought through statement was one of the nicest ones he had ever heard – he had not had many nice moments in his life and it somehow undid the pain of yearlong bitterness and animosity and a calmness suddenly settled into his chest and stomach he hadn't felt for a long time, painfully and good feeling at the same time.

"I don't know how you could." He replied quietly, placing one hand onto the teen's shoulder and his other hand underneath his brat's chin to lift his face up, to look into those frightened green eyes. "I don't know how you could, after all those years I have put you through verbal abuse, and I am very sorry about it. I even know that simply apologizing will not be enough, but there is nothing else to do than to promise you that I will never hurt you or mistreat you again in any way. I wish there were a way that I could erase it all and start over, but I also know that it cannot be made undone."

He sighed and gritted his teeth for a moment, before continuing. "I don't know if you can believe me, but I do want you to know that all I said during the past years had been idle threats. Even back then, when I found you in my pensive and as angry as I was, I would not have struck you, denied you food or locked you away. It makes me angry at myself that I threatened you with the same abuse that you had suffered from those horrid muggles for so long."

"Please, don't." Harry said, taking a step forwards and slipping his arms around Snape's waist, pressing his cheek against the soft cloth on Snape's shirt, inhaling the scent that stubbornly clung to the Potions Master even when he was away from his beloved potions. "Please, don't do that. Don't feel angry at yourself. It won't change the past. I don't want you being angry. We already _did_ start all over and nothing else is important. Not to me. I … just please … don't do that …"

Slowly and hesitantly lifting his arms and folding them over the teen's shoulders Snape swallowed a second time this night. How did this brat do this? With all his frightened movements and gazes and with all his insecurities, he nevertheless managed it to get under his skin, to throw his world upside down, to make him feel a painful twinge in his chest every now and then.

Harry gasped when he felt strong arms returning his embrace and holding him tightly against a firm chest. He hadn't thought Snape would return his embrace, but the man did and he couldn't help starting to cry, feeling the steady heartbeat of Snape's heart against his ear and he knew he had fallen into a deep abyss, however this had happened. Never before in his entire life had he cried so much than he had today.

"Hush, brat." Snape whispered, tightening the grip he had at his brat even more. "I don't know how you so easily could forget how I used to handle you, but I will do as you wish, for once at least. Just calm down."

But the sobs didn't stop and he simply lifted his brat into his arms, not releasing the death grip he had on him, and went over to the sofa, sat down with the teen's upper body pressed against his chest.

"You are right, Harry." He said. "I _do _care. And you are right, I won't be gentle, as I already told you. But I _do _care, and I will be careful with you. I won't hurt you and I won't harm you. I will keep you safe and I will stand beside you, always. You however are wrong in one thing, Harry. I _do_ love you."

For a moment he actually was startled at his own words, but then, slowly but surely the hysterical sobs from the teen he held in his arms turned into stuttering breaths and the boy had calmed down almost completely. He paused to take a sip of his tea to calm his own nerves and then gazed down into the green eyes of the brat, of _his _brat.

"You do?" Harry asked startled, gazing back at those black eyes that bore into his own with a nearly frightening intensity, but Harry was no longer afraid that Snape would read his mind. Because he had been telling the truth. He _did_ want Snape, and he would have wanted him even if the man wouldn't love him. It would have been enough to him if the man simply had cared for him. He never had thought that the man would love him anyway and he rather was startled at the fact that Snape actually had said that he did. He simply couldn't understand how Snape could when his relatives always had made it clear to him what an unlovable freak he was.

And yet he felt the man's arms still holding him tightly, as if to keep him safe, as if to keep him from falling deeper into this abyss, as if he wouldn't want to release him ever again. And then Harry felt a hand cover his own, loosening his fingers of the tight hold he'd had on the fabric of the Potions Master's robes which he hadn't even known he had twisted, trying to still its trembling, and he gave in to this hand that was hiding his smaller one underneath the slender and larger fingers.

"Of course I do, brat!" Came the man's softly whispered reply – and a moment later Harry slowly drifted off to sleep with the sound of Snape's strong and steady heartbeat thumping against his ear.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was tired beyond what he had felt in months, even with the Dark Lord back and Albus alert and him back to his spying – he barely had felt as tired as he was right now since a long time. But on the other hand, Snape also knew that it was pointless for himself to even attempt sleeping before he had a chance to think through the many things the teen had admitted towards him this evening – intentionally or not.

So softly he crept back into the teen's room and sank down into the chair next to the bed, watching his brat with completely new eyes.

Even asleep and with a dreamless sleep potion in his system the boy still looked troubled and Snape noted with some displeasure that his brat was sleeping with his back against the wall, his body curled into a tiny hiding and defensive ball as if even down here in the dungeons of the man he had a relationship with, that was supposed to care for him and to keep him safe, he would have to be wary of danger.

_'__Yes, of danger of you raising your hand towards him, beating him, even if the boy does not fear this consciously.'_ The ever annoying small voice in his mind whispered, and he knew that this voice was right. As it always was.

It hadn't been much of a chore to lift the underweight boy and put him to bed in his room. The brat was exhausted, emotionally and bodily as well, and he barely had made a face when he had made him drinking a vial of dreamless sleep potion. Merlin only knew what sorts of horrible things would be floating around the teen's dreams that night after the kind of evening that had just occurred.

Again he remembered the fear, the bruises, all those scars, how dangerously thin his brat was, what the boy had revealed to him today – and again he seethed in fury at those blasted muggles that were the boy's relatives he had grown up with, that should have cared for the child but had beaten him, starved him and locked him away in a cupboard and he would have liked to immediately apparate to Private Drive and to kill those monsters. To kill them as slowly as possible, to let them suffer a slow and painful death, to …

Well, he couldn't do that, now could he?

It was quite evident that he was the only adult left in Harry's life who could be trusted to do right by the boy and so it was necessary that he kept himself out of trouble, out of prison, and if only for the sake of his brat that needed him, that wanted him, however that had happened. But the temptation was present – and quite strong.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_A mirror__, a massage and undressing _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	15. for Merlin's sake

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_It was quite evident that he was the only adult left in Harry's life who could be trusted to do right by the boy and so it was necessary that he kept himself out of trouble, out of prison, and if only for the sake of his brat that needed him, that wanted him, however that had happened. But the temptation was present – and quite strong._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter fifteen**

**For Merlin's sake!**

The moment he woke Harry groaned quietly. Not because of pain, as he felt nearly none, but because of embarrassment the moment he remembered the evening before.

He actually had revealed all his secrets to Snape yesterday evening!

All of them, even the fact that his uncle had made him touching him, and he closed his eyes in frustration.

Well, yes – part of him knew that it was better this way. Part of him knew that Snape would have to know if he truly wanted to continue with this relationship, not to mention that Snape would have found out anyway and that he would have been just the more angry then for not telling him. But honestly – Snape now knew.

Bringing his hand towards his face he ran it over his forehead, trying to get his frustration under control and at the same time trying to get awake, while he briefly wondered how he had gotten back into his room and the only logical conclusion he came to was –

Snape had carried him to bed – yet again.

Somehow the man seemed to carry him back and forth and back again all the time lately, not a fact that sat well with him. He was a sixteen year old teenage boy, for Merlin's sake. Neither a toddler nor a girl to be carried around all day long.

The next thing he registered was the fact that he actually was nearly pain-free.

Pain – he thought, he had forgotten what it felt like when it was absent, and he had to admit that it was a feeling he quite welcomed. The last time this pain-free feeling had been … well … during his third year, after his injuries finally had healed. And it was nice to feel the same way again.

If only Snape would not …

He jumped when he heard a soft knock at the door and a scared look entered his eyes while he looked like a frightened rabbit towards the entrance of the room he occupied down here right now, seeing Snape standing in the doorframe and he tried to judge the older wizard's thoughts and opinion.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The magic floating between the boy's necklace and the ring he himself wore finally had settled to a steady flow and Snape was glad for this. During the past days he sometimes had felt what the boy felt when he was in his presence, but not always. He hadn't felt the headache the boy had had two days earlier. And he hadn't felt the entire panic the boy had been in yesterday either. But finally the devices worked as they should and right now he felt the frustration coming from his brat, indicating that Harry was awake.

He got up and went over to the door that would lead to the boy's room and softly knocked at the doorframe. He didn't want to startle the boy with his unannounced presence. The boy had been startled and scared enough in his life. He however could tell the look of frustration on the boy's face was changing into a look of relief, probably at being pain-free, then into one of self-loath, probably berating himself again and finally into fear again when he knocked at the door. So much for not scaring the boy.

"Good morning, Harry." He said. "Breakfast is set – and stop insulting yourself _again_."

"Morning, sir." The brat replied quietly, again a look of relief crossing his face and for another moment Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. He had noticed the relief that had washed over the teen the moment he finally had spoken to him in the middle of last night, out in the hallway where he had found him in only his pyjamas and not even socks on his feet. And now he greeted him verbally and again looked relieved. And it only left one answer in his mind: the boy had feared that he might not be able to – what led to the conclusion that this particular issue might have happened quite often, and for more than just a few hours while he had been upset. Not a thought that sat well with him, he had to admit, as it only proved that the mental scars ran much deeper than he had feared.

The teen moved to get up and slightly winced at the movement, causing him to narrow his eyes at the brat once more while he went over to the chair he had been sitting in last night.

"Any troubles, Mr. Potter?" He drawled with his eyebrow raised – in his typical Snape manner.

"No, sir." The boy quickly answered. "I'm just a bit stiff. It will wear off during the day."

"I take it that you think that – feeling a bit stiff – is quite a common thing to experience?" Snape asked, summoning a vial of massaging oil.

He lifted his eyebrow at the force with which the vial ended up in his hand, not remembering having used such an amount of force while summoning it and he shook his head for a moment.

"Get off your pyjama top, Harry." He then said. "And don't argue. I have seen your body yesterday evening and I do know what it looks like. Just do it."

The teen began undoing the buttons, fumbling with them while his fingers were trembling so badly that Snape was momentarily tempted to catch the boy's hands gently and to hold them securely in his, to undo the buttons himself, but he forced himself to wait patiently.

"Lay onto your stomach." He simply ordered the moment the teen finally had managed to open his pyjama top and had slipped out of the piece of clothing.

His oil covered hands startled the teen and the brat practically jumped, causing Snape to smirk for a moment until he remembered the exact reason as to why the teenager was so jumpy in the first place and he got sober immediately.

"Just relax." He said softly while using confident strokes to massage Harry's shoulders. "I won't hurt you. But it isn't normal being stiff in the morning after sleeping in a comfortable bed. I could understand if you had slept in this chair which I know you haven't as I have been sitting in it until late last night."

"Uhm …" The boy made, blushing a satisfyingly shade of red. "Why would you …"

"Why would I _not_ sit beside a young man that was unaware of his delicious body while being asleep, Mr. Potter?" He asked sarcastically, moving his hands over the boy's lower back and his sides. "I would be a fool if I would not."

The blush on the teen's face – if even possible – deepened and again Snape smirked, knowing meanwhile how easily he could make the boy squirming and blushing.

"I'm not …"

"You _are_, Mr. Potter, and the fact that you are so unaware of it makes you just the more adorable." Snape interrupted before the boy could say something absolutely foolish about not having a delicious body. There probably was no student in this school that was as unaware of his or her own body as was Harry, the boy was a bloody virgin when it came to his own body.

"It's unfair." The boy suddenly muttered unhappily and he stopped the movements of his hands for a moment.

"To what exactly are you referring, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Uhm … well … you know … I mean … that is …"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked smirking. "Is there something you wanted to say?"

Of course there was no answer aside from a headshake and Snape smirked again.

"I thought so." He simply said, quite glad that the brat had not told what exactly he thought was unfair. He wasn't sure if he was ready to undress in front of his brat yet as he himself wasn't so unaware of _his_ _own_ body.

**Flashback**

_He stood in front of the mirror above the sink in his bathroom, looking at the reflection of his face and for once in his life he wished he had a wizarding mirror. _

_He always had loathed the talking mirrors that were normal objects used in the wizarding world. He had gotten sick of the comments about his greasy hair, his sallow skin and his large nose and __so he had a perfectly silent muggle mirror. But right now he wished for its informations – but the mirror said nothing, just as it was supposed to._

_He knew he wasn't an attractive man and he had come to terms with that fact long ago. And he also knew that his partners hadn't been with him for his appearance either. He was thirty-six and in the full flower of adulthood, but he also was suffering from his own coldness and darkness, from his own bitterness, and his life's harshness had hardened his features._

_Not to mention his body itself._

_He knew that he looked too skinny and some of the men with whom he'd had his trysts in the past had unmercifully commented that he definitely should eat more. The questions what he had done to his nose, or if he ever walked out into the sun, if he ever washed his hair, were some he was used to by now and he never had allowed those questions or comments to actually hurt him, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle the same questions coming from his brat._

_And then there were the scars. He had lived a harsh youth, he had lived through the first wizarding war as a Death Eater at first and then as a spy. So naturally he had his fair numbers of scars littering his body. And now the second wizarding war had started and he again was in the midst of it, again as a spy. And again – there were already new scars that decorated his body due to this second wizarding war that left scars on everyone. _

_But right now – he actually wished this blasted mirror to tell him its opinion._

**End flashback**

"Turn!" He softly commanded, still sitting beside the brat on the edge of the mattress and watching the teen to obey, to turn onto his back, again a blush forming on the boy's face.

"You have such a delicious blush." He said, smirking at the deepening of said blush and he had to keep himself from actually chuckling. "In fact, I actually do have a few very satisfying ideas with which I surely can get you to blush an even prettier shade of red." He ran his hands across Harry's chest and revelled at the feeling of the teen's muscles twitching under his touch.

It was the first time he touched the brat's naked skin in such an intimidate way and he knew he had to be slow or he would startle the boy out of his pants. Not that he would have minded – but well … that was not what should happen and he knew it. So he just continued running his fingers lightly down the boy's chest, slowly and gently, easing Harry into the idea of being touched by the hands of another man in such an intimidate way, knowing very well that Harry could bolt at any moment and he did not want that to happen. He wanted Harry to trust him enough to know that he would not hurt him intentionally, to know that he would do nothing without his consent.

His fingers continued their way over the teenager's skin, were running down the boy's flanks, feeling the muscles tense and relax and tensing again against his fingers as the boy tensed up every now and then. He lowered his head to one side, watching the boy's Adam's apple which bobbed with nervousness.

"If, at any time, you want me to stop, you just have to say your safe word, and I will do." He softly said while he placed the fingers of his other hand at the teen's throat, caressing the skin there too, running them lightly over the bobbing Adam's apple, feeling the movements underneath his fingertips. "Do you understand?"

The younger wizard nodded while writhing under his fingers, breathing heavily with pleasure and Snape nearly thought he could hear the boy's heart beating furiously against the pale chest while he attacked his body with seductive touches. He could feel his own cock hardening, pressing against his trousers and grabbing Harry's arms with one hand and forcing them above his head, Snape straddled the teenager, pinning Harry nearly effortlessly to the bed as the black eyes watched the squirming brat while he used his other hand on the boy's chest to pin the teen's upper body to the bed. His own breathing and his own body and mind heated with adrenaline, Snape stared at the panting body of his once most hated student.

It had been a long time since he had been together with anyone and in such a way no less. On top of that he had a very desirable young man laying in front of him who was panting and trembling with anticipation. So it was only understandable that he himself had to fight hard to keep his arousal under control in order to not startle the teenager that lay in front of him.

Harry yelped when the vice like grip grasped his wrists and they were pinned to the mattress above his head, his upper body being held down to the bed by the strong wizard's other hand on his chest and firm legs straddling him, the man sitting atop his lower region his groin pressing against his own, and Harry realized with a flush what it was doing to him.

Snape moved his free hand over the narrow chest and his thumbs moved over Potter's nipples, toying with them, hardening them, causing the boy to whimper softly and it was a sound that nearly made Snape shudder with desire.

Harry hitched a breath as a finger tweaked his nipple, pinching it in a way that it sent shivers up and down his spine and he pressed his eyes close. He couldn't believe how hard he was, or how much pleasure Snape could cause just by touching him, but immediately the older wizard growled softly at him.

Snape smirked, and glanced at the boy's face. Harry's emerald eyes were closed and he was nibbling his lower lip as though he were trying to avoid making any sounds that were trying to escape those delicious lips and he frowned. That would not do. That would not do, at all.

"Open your eyes!" Snape commanded and his voice had dropped even deeper than it normally was, was dropping over his senses like honey on bread and Harry couldn't help gasping, opened his eyes. "I want to see what you feel when I touch you."

He bit his lip even harder as he saw the expression on Snape's face.

The dark eyes were fierce but the look on Snape's face was so passionate that Harry soundlessly gasped again as Snape squeezed the bud he held between his thumb and forefinger roughly. Harry continued to worry his lip in between his teeth, hoping that he wouldn't make a sound.

Snape's fingers on his bud stilled and with gentle fingers the older wizard eased Harry's lip from between his teeth.

"There will be none of that, Mr. Potter." Snape softly but sternly chided. "I want to hear the precious little sounds you make, brat."

Harry nevertheless kept silent when Snape's fingers went back to his nipple and squeezed, and a second time Snape growled in displeasure.

That really wouldn't do and he was quick to introduce the enthralling flesh of the boy's other nipple to his teeth, could feel Potter tensing for a moment and swallowing thickly, just before he bit down hard on his left nipple while he at the same time squeezed the boy's right nipple with his fingers hard and roughly, causing the boy to throw his head back, to arch his back and to give away a loud gasp of pain and pleasure while he teased the buds by his teeth and fingers.

He saw stars as Snape bit down hard on his left nipple, shivered at the pain and at the same time blinding pleasure it caused and his groin twitched for another moment. He felt a rushing sensation centred around _there_, that place that Harry had never really thought about before, and if he _did_ think about it, then he felt the thing down there hardening even more, like nothing else he had ever felt before, while something curled in the pit of his stomach, something twitchy and deep, something that he _really_ had never felt before.

When his mouth finally found Harry's other nipple, Snape attended to this one teasingly too. He licked around it in slow circles first, and then stroked over the nub before drawing back slightly. He blew gently on it, and he felt satisfied when Harry gasped harshly, his nipples hardening further.

He smirked, and stroked his tongue against Harry's nipple a second time, causing the teen to moan softly while he wrapped his lips around the bud, and sucked, gently at first, but steadily growing rougher until he had the bud between his teeth.

"You have the most delicious body one could wish for." Snape growled with his much too deep voice that again sent shivers down the younger wizard's body when he finally stopped and looked over his brat. "And so responsive."

"I would …" The brat gasped between his still frantic breathing. "I would like … I would like to see … to see yours too."

For a moment Snape stiffened and his dark eyes bore into the green ones that were rather glassy with pleasure, but then he lowered his head to one side before he inclined it and slowly released the boy's hands.

That had not been what he had intended today, but at the same time he knew that someday the boy would see his body anyway. At least if they continued this relationship, what he had ever intention to do. So he opened the buttons of his shirt one by one, slowly, as if teasing the teenager that still lay on the bed, but in reality covering his own unsureness with the slow action. He finally shoved the shirt off his shoulders and slipped out of the sleeves, the white fabric softly falling to the bed behind him.

It was the first time that Harry saw him naked, even if it was only his upper body, and Snape could feel the gaze of the teenager as it passed over him. Harry's eyes were fixed on his too thin chest as he sat straight and tall atop him, allowing the inspection, waiting for a remark that would show rejection and he had to use all his occlumency shields to keep his emotions from showing on his face.

But then the teen sat up halfway, leaning onto one elbow while unsurely extending his hand and then Harry's fingertips brushed his chest slowly, gently and intimately while a small and happy smile showed on the brat's face, and the spontaneity of the touch and the trust it expressed made Snape forget about his insecurity, made way for a deep and strange feeling he couldn't name yet.

Taking hold of the boy's wrists again, he bent down to touch the boy's lips with his own, pinning the teen's arms towards the mattress again while forcing his brat's lips apart and entering this hot and wet cavern with his tongue, roughly devouring the boy's mouth and this time Harry didn't try to take the upper hand but allowed him to dominate the kiss, his eyes closed again while soft moans escaped him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It had been the most intense experience he ever had made.

Well, aside from the pain his uncle so often had inflicted onto him, and the pain from the cruciatus Voldemort had thrown at him back at fourth year. Those kinds of pain had been intense as well. But that had been different kinds of pain and as intense as the pain back then had been, it …

Well, it just had been anything else than - _pleasant_.

But _this _kind of pain had been pleasant, and suddenly he again understood what Snape had tried to tell him a few days earlier.

It had hurt, when Snape had bit down, a lot, and he was sure that the man had left bruises, but it had been different. Hell, it still was different. He still was hard and there still was something twitching, down _there_. And honestly, he would love to – just for a moment – lower his hand to touch himself down there, just to ease the nearly painful throbbing.

But Snape had made himself very clear the other day. He did not want him touching himself. Not in front of him anyway.

He had said he of course wouldn't forbid it, but he had said that he would not allow him to touch himself in front of him, that he would have to address him if he had a _problem _and that he would be glad to help out. But honestly, _that_ was something that was just impossible. Alone the thought sent a new shiver down his body while at the same time he wondered how Snape did this. Not only bringing such intense feelings over him with only touching him, but to remain cool and collected himself at the same time, to remain calm and – just as if nothing happened, as if this wouldn't affect him.

For a moment he thought that maybe Snape didn't get aroused because of his body, because of how thin and small his chest and shoulders were, just like if he were a kid instead of a teenager that would be an adult soon. Maybe Snape saw how ugly he was and simply wasn't turned on by such a young looking body. And maybe he … probably … well, most likely he wouldn't meet Snape's standards down there too.

But then he remembered the older wizard's words. He had said he had the most adorable body he ever had seen. But that surely wasn't true, was it? It simply couldn't be true!

But Merlin, the things Snape had done to his body with his hands!

If Snape was able to nearly drive him mad with just touching his nipples, with just touching his upper body, his chest and his stomach, then what exactly would the man cause with his fingers touching him _there_?

It was impossible to think about and a new wave of heat threatened to consume him while he could feel the squirming and twitching sensation down there again, causing him to nearly groan out with need and frustration. No – he really better didn't think about _that_, about what Snape would be able to do with his hands down _there_.

Turning in the man's arms slightly, just to distract himself from this line of thoughts, he placed his hand on the Potions Master's lower arm, feeling the man's hair on his forearm and automatically his fingers began playing with them.

Nearly startled Snape lifted his eyebrow the moment he felt Potter playing with the hair on his forearm. What in Merlin's name had the brat in mind?

He knew that the brat still was hard, he could feel the shivers that every now and then wracked the smaller body he held in his arms and he could feel the brat squirming every so often, and he smirked at the thought of it, waiting if the teen would address him or not.

But then – knowing the damn brat's history – he most likely would not. He _surely_ would not.

They were laying there since at least half an hour, and honestly, his own erection was about to kill him, but he too would not address the boy with it, not while knowing what that damn muggle had done. The trust Potter had in him was still too fragile, to thin and too new for such an action and he would destroy it if he said anything right now.

He just would have to endure it - what wasn't so bad anyway, honestly - and to take a cold shower later on. It had been a long time since he had felt such arousal that lingered on and on, that tortured him, and so - well, no - it really wasn't so bad at all.

So he just continued holding the boy that lay in front of him, playing with the hair on his lower arm he had placed around the teen's chest, holding him close to his own chest and he could feel the younger wizard's shoulder blades rising and falling against his own body.

His own body.

He had been so sure that Potter would be disgusted, that he then would make a scathing remark, that he would laugh at him, and that he finally would just leave him. It wouldn't be anything else than the reactions he'd received from others throughout the years after all. He wouldn't have wanted Potter to react in such a way, to leave him, to lose him – not _his _boy – but it wasn't anything else he was used to, and it wasn't anything else he had expected either.

But the boy hadn't.

He couldn't understand why, but neither had Harry laughed at him, nor had he made any funny comments and he hadn't left either. The brat still was there, right here in his arms right now and playing with the hair on his forearm as if it was a normal thing to do, playing with the hair on the forearm of a Death Eater.

Well, yes – Ex Death Eater.

But was that such a difference? He had done horrible things in his life and he knew it. He wasn't a nice person in the first place and he surely had been a bastard towards Harry during the past five years. And neither was he a man that at least had charm or would be good looking. He had absolutely no good qualities. And yet, the brat – _his_ brat – was still laying in his arms and enjoying himself – by playing with his hair on his forearm.

And then there were the emotions he received through the pendant …

The boy definitely was happy right now where he was and he almost could see the boy smiling, if he had not his back turned towards him.

But then …

Remembering the relief he had felt through the pendant earlier, he furrowed his brows.

He had felt this relief the moment he had addressed him verbally. And he had felt this relief coming from his brat before when he – most probably – had recognized that he was pain-free for the first time in a long time. And he knew that it surely _had _been in a long time. The boy had spent over a week with him while still being slightly injured. And he had spent more than two months with his relatives where he had been beaten, starved and locked away. And before that he had been injured due to his adventure at the ministry.

So, with a silent groan he realized that – most likely – the boy was pain-free for the first time in about three months. Nothing a teenage boy with just fifteen years should have experienced.

"When had been the last time you have not felt pain, Harry?" He asked, turning the boy on his shoulders until he lay on his back and he could see the teenager's face, boring his dark eyes into the green ones that looked at him startled.

"Uhm …" Potter made and Snape growled darkly at him.

"An answer, Harry!" He said firmly.

"Well … dunno … but is it really important?" Harry asked, looking aside.

"It is important to _me!_" Snape said, grabbing the teen's chin and turning his head so he had to look at him while he eased himself up onto his elbow. The boy's face looked so innocent and he would like nothing more than to lower his head and to again claim this pretty mouth for a deep and breathtaking kiss, but he didn't. This was not the time for such actions. He wanted answers. He _needed _answers.

"Well, dunno … really." Harry finally answered with a heavy sigh. "I guess since one point or another after the beginning of third year or sometime like that."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked his eyes going hard and cold, angry.

"Well, since around the beginning of third year." The teenager repeated unsurely.

"I thought you would have had time to recover from your relatives' mistreatment during your fourth and fifth year as well here at Hogwarts."

"Well … yes …" Potter admitted, blushing again. "But then there was the triwizard tournament back in fourth year and it really hadn't been as easy as it might have looked like. And then in fifth year … well … there … there had been Umbridge and her endless detentions."

"And those detentions had caused pain?" Snape asked confused. "Surely they were not as bad as the detentions _I _handed out."

"You think so!" Potter nearly snorted. "Your detentions had been a walk in the sunshine compared to hers."

"And that would be why?" Snape asked. That was just ridiculous, Umbridge's detention being harder than his own, it was impossible. He was known as the most evil bastard that lived as a teacher after all and three quarters of the students feared and hated him. Surely the boy was exaggerating.

"Well, because of how she had me writing."

"I thought – writing, compared to hours of scrubbing cauldrons, would not be as harsh."

"Uhm …" Potter made, looking aside again. "Well …"

"Well?"

"You see … I mean … she …"

Snape frowned and slowly, remembering something that he only barely had registered over the amount of the boy's abuse he had discovered last evening, Snape's hand tightened around Harry's wrist, inspecting the back of the boy's left hand closely – and then he gasped.

"Do not tell my, Mr. Potter, that this woman had made you using blood quills!" He growled, unable to deny the surge of protectiveness he suddenly felt, that rose within his chest to a point where he thought he wasn't able to breath, where he thought he might explode at every moment with fury, with rage.

"Uhm … well … I guess … you see … I mean …"

"Yes, I _do _see." Snape growled furiously, sitting up on the bed and his dark eyes lingering harshly on the boy in front of him. "And I do see that – yet again – you had not felt safe enough to ask an adult for help. Albus would have done something, and Minerva too. Damn, Harry! Even _I_ would have stepped in!"

"I don't know." The boy whispered, sitting up too but not looking at him. "Dumbledore completely ignored me, refused to even look at me. And McGonagall – well, she never cared. She of course cared about our education, yes. But never about other things. And you – well, how should I … I mean … you hated me … and the occlumency lessons … and then … I just …"

Closing his eyes for a moment in frustration Snape inhaled deeply. Of course the boy was right. How should he have been able to address him with that? How should he have known that he indeed would help? That he wouldn't sneer at him with the words that 'life wasn't fair' and he should get used to it?

"I do know that it is a mute point now, Harry, but I _would_ have done something." He finally said. "And if you have any problems or if you are in any troubles, in danger, in pain, or simply unwell, then I expect that you tell me immediately. You are my submissive, you are my junior partner and you are the one I care for. I wish to keep you safe and out of harm's way, what I only then can do if you address me with what ails you. And even back then I would not have ignored you being tortured by this woman."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was nearly two weeks later and during the past few evenings they simply had continued disrobing their upper bodies so Harry could get used to the sensation of being naked in front of Snape, another and much older male. Still nothing else had happened between them, but neither of them did mind that fact.

The brat had gone back to classes, he, Severus, had gone back to teaching, but in the evenings after dinner Harry always went into the dungeons instead of the Gryffindor tower. Well, Snape had known that Harry wouldn't go back to the tower, that he rather would go back to the room of requirement instead, and so he didn't abject allowing the brat in his quarters anyway.

Not to mention that he enjoyed having the brat around.

The teenager still slept in the room he had given him, and surely he wouldn't ask the boy to sleep in his – Snape's – bed anytime soon, but that was alright with him. He had him in the evenings and he had him at the weekends to tease and to make him blushing – and squirming. And to simply look at him, at his delicious body that made him tortured by his own erection to a point where his fingers nearly trembled, to a point where he had to force his breathing coming calmly instead of in ragged gasps.

He had continued to not only ensure that the teenager ate enough, but that he also took the nutrient potions, yet the brat still was so painfully skinny and whenever they disrobed in the evenings to simply lay beside each other or to simply touch each other's bare skin lightly, then he couldn't help thinking of how easy it would be to break this thin and already scarred body, of how careful and gentle he would have to be with this boy.

And yet – there was something … he knew that it was too soon, but – well, in the old days, they already would …

His dark eyes fixed the teen that was sitting at the sofa, his feet drawn up to his chest and a book in his hands. A sight that he had gotten quite used to by now.

He knew it was too soon. They were together since only three weeks. But only if they were married he would have guardianship over the boy too until he came of age. Only then he could ensure that he never ever again would have to go back to the Dursleys. Or to any other abusive household, he thought. The boy would be not only his husband, his submissive, but his ward too until the boy was seventeen. Or eighteen in the muggle world, to play it safe.

But three weeks!

On the other hand – in the old days they _really_ would be bonded already. They would have been bonded within the first week. And then … but would he not only startle the boy? The boy surely had his entire life ahead of him and he surely wouldn't want to bond with his old and grumpy Potions Master. He surely would meet a much younger man one day and then …

But he wanted to keep the boy safe. And he wanted to have the boy all for himself. He wanted to keep the boy. The brat. _His _brat!

Taking a deep breath before he could think otherwise he went over the few steps to the sofa and took hold of the book the teen held in his hand. He marked the edge of the page with a magical signature and then closed it, placed it at the table behind him. He took another deep breath, knowing that maybe this was the end of their relationship, but well – he never had been one to play safe concerning his own life, his spying duty alone was enough proof of that.

So he schooled his face into an unreadable mask and reached out for the boy's hand, pulled him up until they both stood face to face. He looked into the expectant and questioning green eyes the boy looked at him with, and suddenly he knew it was the right thing to do.

"I want to keep you for myself, Potter." He growled darkly, the only way he knew to hide his unsureness right now. "And I want to keep you forever. I want to bind you, heart, soul, core and body, to me."

The brat stood there, shocked for a moment as it seemed, and he already was about to grit his teeth and turn when the younger wizard finally blinked and then opened his mouth.

"You mean … you mean you want to _marry _me?" The boy asked unbelievable.

"Muggles would call it a marriage, Potter." He growled, his nerves playing havoc with him. "Within the wizarding world a promise such as marriage between two wizards or two witches, is called a bond."

Again there was more than a minute during which the boy just stared at him.

"Then … then you mean … but surely you wouldn't want to …"

"I would not have asked if I would not want to." He growled.

Well, he knew the boy meanwhile and he knew that the boy didn't want to offend him with his hesitancy, but that he simply was unsure and frightened himself, that he didn't understand why someone, _anyone_, would want to be with him – and for the rest of said ones life no less.

"So you … I mean … you … really …"

"For Merlin's sake, Potter!" He growled impatiently. "Yes, I just asked you if you are ready to bond with your old and grumpy Potions Master. Or in terms you might understand better, I just asked you if you are ready to _marry_ your old and grumpy Potions Master. You do know what I demand of you in that case and …"

He wasn't able to continue his sentence and he didn't get an answer to his question either.

Even before he had finished his sentence Potter had moved and suddenly he had an armful of Harry clinging to him like a leech. The boy simply had thrown his arms around his neck and Potter stood on the tip of his toes to push himself upright, his lips against his, Snape's chapped ones, and he stood frozen. For a long moment he was too stunned to do anything else than blinking in shock.

It was the first time the boy had made such a move by himself and it was the first time the boy made a small sound of disappointment in the back of his throat, a sound that bordered on frustration and suddenly Snape found himself bowing his head and sneaking his own arms around Harry's delicate waist to steady the lubberly young male while he opened his lips and for once allowed Harry to taste him.

The brat's kiss was still innocent and sweet, light as Harry was, naive, inexperienced and full of youth and the taste of simply Harry made Snape wanting more of it, craving it.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry had been startled when Snape had taken the book out of his hands and then had taken his hand to pull him from the sofa, not knowing what the man had in mind. He had looked so serious! And so forbidding! Just like in class!

And still he was so much taller than him, Harry. He always had wished that he were taller and not so skinny, but with Snape – well, ok, with Severus – keeping a sharp eye on his diet, just like a hawk, he sometimes thought, he soon would gain weight, he knew. But still he was much too small for his age. He didn't even reach Snape's chin and he was rather annoyed whenever the man sarcastically pointed out to him that he often rose on tiptoes when he and Severus were discussing something while they both were standing.

Sometimes he even wondered if the older wizard did this deliberately, discussing things with him while standing.

On the other hand, well, he didn't really mind.

He always had known that his partner would have to be older than him. And taller. And somehow he had known that it would be someone the same gender as well, even if he had not consciously known it. It had been there, in his mind, in his being, in his – whatever there was – he simply had known it unconsciously.

And so he didn't really mind now either. He felt safe. He felt cared for. And he knew that Snape would keep him safe with his own life if necessary.

Snape – that man was another enigma.

At first he hadn't been sure if that was what Snape too had wanted. This relationship. If Snape really had been content with this.

But then - since their relationship actually _had_ started, his face sometimes was nearly relaxed and looked more its age than it had before. Before this relationship had started, the man always had been tense and rigid and stiff and he always had looked dark and forbidding, and angry and irate. And he always had looked older than he actually was. He knew that Snape had visited Hogwarts with his parents, that he had been in the same year as had been his parents. And so he knew that Snape was twenty years older than him, in other words – thirty-six now. But he always rather had looked like forty-six.

Well, in some way the man was the same.

The long, black hair was loose, falling freely over his shoulders – or over his face whenever he tried to hide somehow. The proud lines of his nose and high cheekbones emphasized the forceful will behind his black eyes. The dark eyebrows were neither fine nor slender, but significant in their own way and Harry knew well how much the man could express with the slightest raising of only one of them.

Generally spoken, he was not overly handsome, but Harry nevertheless liked him and he could not imagine him in any other way.

He looked into the dark eyes again. Those dark eyes that sometimes held nothing else than cold emptiness, but right now warmth and a fire he couldn't explain.

Had Snape just asked him if he wanted to _marry _him?

Had Snape, dark and evil and cold dungeons bat that hated Harry Potter asked _him _if he wanted to _marry _him? Him? Harry Bloody Potter?

He always had feared that Snape wouldn't want this, that he only did this because …

Because of what?

Snape was no one who would start a relationship with a student he hated just to comfort said student. Snape was no one who would do anything he wouldn't want doing just to spare someone's feelings. He wouldn't …

So … damn – _yes_!

Of course he wanted to belong to Snape, to anyone, but preferably to Snape, he had learned over the past weeks! What was there to ask?

Without being able to restrain himself he threw his arms around the man's neck, not caring if he startled the normally so guarded and reserved wizard in the act and he could feel Snape stiffen against him, but then the breathing seemed to leave the Potions Master in one huge sigh and Snape wrapped his own arms around his waist, his hands warm on his lower back and it felt nice.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus had not experienced much of this kind of love before.

With Lily, yes. But those occasions had been rare – and long past.

He had seen the cruel and cold kind of love that his parents had shared, that hadn't been love at all but rather hate. And he had seen the harsh and quick love he had shared with some other men, that wasn't love at all either but quick sex and nothing else. He had seen the heartless and sometimes painful love the Death Eater showed towards their partners, that wasn't love at all but a display of power alone, and not the kind of caring power that a top would display towards his bottom, but a power that was uncaring and ruthless – nothing else than power alone.

But he never had seen the kind of love that didn't demand anything but made you give by free will and suddenly he knew that now, now that this brat offered just this kind of love to him, he knew that he never would let it go, that he never would let _Harry_ go. It might be selfish of him, to demand the boy as his, forever, but he couldn't help.

His arm tightened around Harry's waist as the boy's tongue explored his mouth, tentatively like all of the brat's moves towards him were, and he allowed the moment to endure, moving his mouth against his brat's in the same maddening slowness. But he allowed Harry to dictate how the kiss should go – for once at least.

"And you look to me for guidance of how to love, Potter?" He growled the moment the brat pulled away. "You are such a fool, brat! I am not the one teaching you right now. You are the one teaching _me_."

A startled shaking of the head that rested against his chest nearly made him chuckle at his brat, but then he grew serious again and he placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and pushed him away a bit so he could look into the green eyes.

He was afraid. He was afraid of what would happen the moment he opened up his heart to this brat and Potter then became disappointed by what he found there. He wouldn't be able to handle it if the boy turned his back on him the moment he had given him everything. As if the boy had read his thoughts he again shook his head.

"Don't you know that this won't happen, sir?" He asked quietly, the green eyes begging. "Don't you know that this isn't about learning anymore? I _do _want to explore with you, yes. But this here is already more. And yes, Of course I would marry … I mean, bond with you! I want this! I want _you_!"

"And I still don't know how you could, brat!" Snape growled darkly.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_About emotions more intense than Harry could have imagined_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	16. how do I feel?

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story con__tains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_"Don't you know that this won't happen, sir?" He asked quietly, the green eyes begging. "Don't you know that this isn't about learning anymore? I __do __want to explore with you, yes. But this here is already more. And yes, Of course I would marry … I mean, bond with you! I want this! I want __you__!"_

_"And I still don't know how you could, brat!" Snape growled darkly._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter sixteen**

**How do I feel?**

It was Friday evening and tomorrow he would go to the Dursleys.

He'd had potions in the morning and his afternoon had been free while Harry had had his afternoon classes. So he'd had enough time for doing his papers and for tonight he had something special on his mind. And tomorrow – well, he would have enough time to make this unpleasant visit to the Dursleys tomorrow.

He didn't mind though, on the contrary. He actually looked forward to a meeting with the boy's aunt and uncle. But at the same time he knew how his submissive would react. But Potter was still underage and so the boy needed his relative's permission for the bonding. And the boy needed to be present while his relatives signed the papers.

He wouldn't mention it tonight, however. Tomorrow would be hard enough to break the news to the boy. The less time between the news and the visit, the less time the boy could worry. And tomorrow evening it would be over. Tomorrow evening they would go to Dumbledore to announce their relationship and he would ask the headmaster to go through the ceremony.

For tonight however, he had something else in his mind.

Undressing the past few evenings had been a rather easy affair. He would change that tonight, and he smirked evilly after they had finished dinner in their quarters. It was normal for them to have dinner in Severus' quarters on Fridays, so the brat didn't suspect anything and was quite at ease. For now, Snape thought.

The moment he had the table cleaned with a flick of his wand he stood up and waved the boy over to the living area. He warded the floo and his entrance door, not wishing unannounced visitors or a floo-call at an inappropriate moment, and then gestured the boy to stand in front of the fireside.

He could feel the boy's nerves being strained like a bowstring, the brat definitely sensing that there was something he had on his mind, and his own breath nearly hitched at the sight of the pent up boy. Slowly he came closer and stood behind him, leaned over the teen's shoulder to whisper into his ear, knowing well what his voice and his words would do to the teenager.

"Undressing the past few days had become a bit too easy, don't you think, Potter?" He darkly growled and at the gulp the boy gave away he knew that he had been right. The boy's heartbeat increased as did his breathing and the colour of his face dropped a few tads while pink spots appeared at his cheeks at the same time. Contrary to him, the boy actually _hitched_ his breath.

"Tonight, you will be undressed – _completely_ – before I will follow your example." He whispered into the boy's other ear before slipping his right hand around the boy's throat. He gently pulled the boy backwards until his back touched his chest and then he pulled the boy's shirt out of his trousers and slipped his left hand underneath the shirt, still from behind, and the brat gasped momentarily before his back arched slightly when he pinched and tweaked a nipple between his fingers.

He ignored the painful stirring of his own member and focused on allowing his slender hands to caress over Potter's sides underneath his shirt and over the cool flesh to feel the ribs against his fingers before he again grabbed the erect bud and then increased the pressure on the boy's nipple, knowing it would be painful this time while at the same time he slightly increased his grip he had on the boy's throat. He wouldn't choke him, but it would be enough to tell the boy to keep his place, to not try escaping the pain. The teenager in front of him gasped again, squirmed, and the hand on his throat, that touched his lower jaw, could feel the boy gritting his teeth to prevent making a sound.

"Oh, no." He growled threateningly, causing the boy to shiver, while he twisted the nipple between his fingers even harder. "You won't! Part your lips!" He ordered.

The teen in front of him tried to turn his head, to look at him, startled, questioningly, but immediately he shifted his hand that still rested on the boy's throat to stop the movement.

"Now!" He simply growled, more threateningly than before while again increasing the pressure on the nipple between his fingers. "You seem to cut it short today, Harry. If you _wish_ to be punished at all costs, you simply continue with your disobedience."

He could feel the boy swallowing forcefully, could feel the boy's Adam's apple move underneath his hand, but then he felt the boy's lower jaw relax the moment the boy slightly opened his mouth.

"That's better." The Potions Master growled pleased, but just to be sure he twisted the nipple between his fingers forcefully for a short moment, causing the boy to give away a groan of pain and satisfied he released the bud to wrap his arm around the boy's waist the moment his knees gave way with the pleasure that washed over him at the same time. He pressed the trembling and heated body against his own for a moment before he slowly released it and rounded the boy to stand in front of the teenager.

He gazed down at the boy standing there, still dazed, unsteady, breathing irregularly and much too quickly, and he was more than pleased. The boy had a delicious body even if he wasn't aroused, but _if_ he was, then just looking at this body of his brat nearly drove him mad with pleasure.

The boy lifted his hand to open the buttons of his shirt but Snape stopped him while gripping one of his wrists.

"_I_ – am going to do that." He said and again made the boy shiver while gazing at him intently. "Keep your hands at your side – _and still_." He ordered and then released the boy's wrist.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry swallowed thickly.

Did he really have to undress completely? In front of Snape? _By_ Snape even? While the man himself kept dressed? Alone _that thought_ was more than embarrassing and he could feel his fears rising. He simply couldn't undress completely in front of Snape. And surely not while the man was still dressed. He simply couldn't … and … and … and …

He tried to control his breathing and he gritted his teeth. That simply would be impossible. He even could feel his blood dropping from his face into some lower regions and his fingers got numb and started to tremble like mad.

And then he would have to stand there, completely naked and exposed to Snape's eyes while the man undressed himself. It was … it hadn't even started and he already felt humiliated.

He felt his lower region twitch at the thought, and he felt his insides squirm not unpleasantly, but he felt humiliated at the same time. He didn't know if he would manage to survive _that_.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

With gentle fingers he slowly undid the first button on Harry's shirt, went down to the second and slowly exposed the boy's delicate chest. Since more than a week now they undressed at least their upper bodies, but he knew that _this _would be different for his brat. Not only had he told him that he would be undressed completely tonight, but it would be in front of him, _by _him even, while he himself was still dressed. He knew _how _embarrassing this would be for the boy.

And after that the boy would have to stand there, naked, exposed to his eyes while he himself undressed, and he knew that he would drive the boy mad with humiliation by that. And not to mention the fact that he made his voice sound threateningly tonight. His attention changed from excitement to caution at the boy's reactions while the long and slender fingers continued to unbutton Harry's shirt, slowly, his dark eyes flickering up to Harry's frightened and unsure pale face to watch his brat closely.

The boy's fingers started to nervously playing with the hem of his shirt and narrowing his eyes at the brat for a moment Snape tried to decide his next move. He had told the boy to keep his hands still at his side. The boy seemed nervous, but otherwise well. So he lifted his eyebrow and leaned closer. Threateningly he grabbed the boy's both wrists in one hand while he again laid his hand on the boy's throat and forced his head upwards by pressure against his lower jaw. He was careful to keep his touch on the boy's throat gentle, but nevertheless forceful.

"_If _I remember correctly," He whispered, "and I am sure I _do_, then I told you to keep your hands still."

He lifted his eyebrow even higher, demanding an answer and he could feel the boy swallowing underneath his hand that rested on his throat. A simple movement underneath his fingers, the boy's Adam's apple, but a movement that sent a jolt through his own body.

"Yes, sir." The boy whispered with a rough and ragged voice, barely able to get the words out.

He lifted his eyebrow at the brat and with another nervous gulp the boy corrected himself and said "Yes, Master."

Keeping his hand on the boy's throat he released the teen's wrists and quickly opened the last button with his now free hand and then pushed the fabric off Harry's shoulder, down his arms and grabbed it just before it fell to the floor.

He placed the shirt over the backrest of the sofa behind him, out of Harry's reach and he could see the boy's eyes wandering over to the place where his cover lay – inaccessible.

"You will keep your hands at your side!" He whispered, ordered threateningly again, the words coming out slowly. "And you will keep them still! You will keep your eyes open and looking at me! And you will keep your lips slightly parted! There will be no gritting of teeth to avoid making one of your precious little sounds. _If_ you disobey yet again, I _will_ punish you."

He shifted his hand around the boy's throat until he had the boy's head in an ankle where he had to look up at him and then he reached out to squeeze the boy's other nipple that had been neglected before.

He could see the brat's green eyes flickering downwards for a second, trying to see what he was doing, before the brat seemed to remember and brought his eyes, that were growing – if possible – even larger than they already were, looking up at him and he could feel the boy's trembling increase, could feel the boy's body sacking for a moment when his knees threatened to give way underneath him, and he could feel the boy struggle to keep his eyes at him, to keep from gritting his teeth the moment a whimper escaped his lips and he could feel the boy struggle to keep his hands at his side and still.

Well, he would make sure that the brat _would _lose this struggle tonight.

And he increased the pressure on the boy's nipple, enjoying the soft whimpers the brat gave away, the squirming, the harsh breathes and the struggle to keep his hands still.

He could see frustration in the boy's face, he could see desperation in the large green eyes and he could see fear in the boy's entire body language. But at the same time he could feel the trust coming from the boy through the necklace.

And right then he would have liked to tell the boy to take a deep breath, that _that_ would help, but he knew, the boy would calm down then and this he didn't want. He wanted the boy to lose his battle against his emotions. He wanted the boy to allow himself to feel and he wanted him to gain this by his own, without a potion, a spell or anything else.

Smirking evilly he pulled at the boy's nipple, twisting it at the same time between his fingers, increasing the pressure bit by bit until the teenager gave a loud whimper away – before gritting his teeth, clenching his hands into tight fists and finally pressing his eyes tightly shut for a moment.

"Tut, tut, tut." Snape made, causing the boy to open his eyes at him and he smirked calmly at the boy.

He didn't feel calm at all. He had to fight hard to keep his hands steady and he had to struggle himself to keep his breathing even. But he forced himself to sound calm.

"What did I tell you?" He asked with his eyebrow lifted at the boy, knowing how threatening he looked right now.

It took the boy a while until he was able to answer.

"You … you told me … you told me to keep … to keep my eyes open and to look at you, Master." The boy answered, struggling with the words, his voice thick with a mixture of pleasure and fear.

"And?" Snape drawled.

"And to … to keep my hands … still … and my mouth … open, Master."

"And? Did you obey?" Snape asked, leaning closer.

"No, Master." The brat answered miserable.

"You do know what I will have to do now?"

"You … you will … you will …"

"Yes, Potter?" He drawled in his best Snape-manner, demanding an answer from the boy, knowing how much the thought of a – _punishment_ – frightened him, but he would not back away, he wanted the boy to learn something out of this tonight, he would not back away!

"You will … you will have to … you will have to … punish me." At the last two words the boy's knees nearly gave way and this time the only emotion Snape could feel coming from the necklace was fear. Raw fear and panic, and he knew why.

Releasing the boy's throat and rounding him until he stood behind him he leaned close and folded his arm around the boy's shoulder from behind, pulled him close.

"I do know that you fear being punished, Harry." He calmly and gently whispered into the boy's ear. "But I promise, this will be nothing compared to the punishments you are used to. I won't really hurt you, I promise. You have your safeword. What is it?"

"Red." The boy in front of him whispered.

"Good." Snape said. "Use it, if you need it. Never hesitate using it if you need it."

He released the boy and then rounded him until he stood in front of him again, gazing intently down into the pale face, but this time his gaze wasn't stern but reassuring and warm. He noticed that again the boy watched rather his hands than his face and he slowly lifted his right hand and gently placed his finger's underneath the boy's chin to force his head up. The frightened eyes however still lingered on his hands.

"Look at me." He gently ordered. "You won't have to fear my hand. You won't have to fear _me _beating you. I won't beat you and I won't harm you."

The boy swallowed thickly, but then his eyes finally left his hands and went upwards to look at him, miserably, and Snape sighed, reaching out with his free hand he gently touched Harry's cheek with his fingers. For once, Harry didn't flinch.

"I … I know." The teen finally managed. "I … I trust you. I … I'm just … a little nervous."

"I know." Snape answered, his eyes still calmly piercing the boy. "What is exactly what I wanted you to feel. And what is the exact reason as to why I won't carry out your punishment right now. I wish to keep you in this very delightful state for a bit longer, brat. I however still expect you to keep your eyes at me, your lips parted and your hands at your side – _and still_, to not clench your teeth or your hands into fists. You will look at me."

The boy's nerves that had calmed a bit during the past three or four minutes turned into a bowstring again and he moved his hand over the teenager's bare chest, over a nipple, then over the other one, pinching them gently between two fingers this time, not causing pain but only pleasure until the boy's breathing was more a gasping for breath than anything else.

Yet, the boy this time obeyed, he kept his eyes open, his lips slightly parted, and his trembling fingers didn't clench into fists. The boy had to struggle and small whimpers escaped him, whimpers that finally went into desperate sobs.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Again he stood behind the boy and sneaked his arms around the bare upper body, his fingers, his hands and his arms touching the boy's flanks, making the boy shudder and shiver violently and he could feel the boy's emotions washing over him, his fear of the upcoming punishment, the embarrassment of being undressed by _him_, Snape, completely, while he himself was still dressed and he could feel the pleasure washing over the boy in painful waves. Pleasure mixed with embarrassment.

He reached down and opened the boy's trouser button and then slowly unzipped the zipper before he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the Jeans and lowered them, undid the boy's straining trousers.

He couldn't see the teen's face, but there was no need to either. He could feel all the boy's emotions washing over him in waves and waves. Waves that were a mixture of pleasure, of desperation, of fear, of arousal, an arousal that was nearly painful and he could feel the bulge in the boy's shorts, indicating the erection that lingered there.

The moment the trousers fell freely over the boy's knees and down to his ankles he simply banished the piece of cloth and a split second later it reappeared over the armrest of the sofa, beside the boy's shirt.

One last piece of clothing was left and this time he went to stand in front of the boy so he would be able watching him more closely and he spoke before he even initiated any actions.

"I am going to remove your shorts." He whispered to the trembling boy in front of him. "I won't touch you right now. I just will take off the fabric." The teenager had the look of a spooked horse in his eyes and the struggle to keep his hands still on his sides, to keep his teeth from gritting and to keep looking at him turned into a struggle to not simply bolt from the room, but Snape just waited patiently for the boy's answer. He wouldn't do this without the teen's permission.

"Ok." Harry replied after swallowing thickly and the Potions Master felt the boy's desperation, the boy's wish he wouldn't be able to tell how nervous he felt. And he could see one question written over the boy's forehead in red letters: would Snape reject him perhaps the moment he saw how small he was?

He simply inclined his head and reaching out he gently hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of the boy's shorts. With one smooth movement he pulled the fabric down and slowly the teen's erect cock was revealed to the cold open air. The boy shivered violently at the cold air caressing his naked skin and the spooked look on the boy's face turned into a look of sheer panic.

He simply banished the shorts as well and at the same time placed his hand on the boy's shoulder to calm him, not sure if the boy was about to bolt or if he was frozen to the spot. The boy's face however was so pale he wondered how he managed to keep his feet. He surely shouldn't have the brat taking a step right now. He would drop where he stood, he was sure of that.

He watched the uncertainty and fear dancing through the boy's eyes and for a moment he wondered what exactly was wrong, but then he knew. The boy simply feared being pushed away by him, knowing that he wasn't as large as a full grown man yet.

Damn it, he'd never had to anticipate the feelings of his partners before. The few partners he'd always had, had been confident and he hadn't needed to reassure them. He was out of his depth and he had to force himself from taking a deep sigh that only would startle the teen in front of him, that would confirm the teen's fears.

He tightened the grip of his hand on the boy's shoulder and pulled the naked body close, enfolding his arms around the exposed teen, knowing that the fabric of his robes would send even more sensations over the teen's bare skin, but at the same time knowing that Harry would be reassured by the act.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, the brat was naked and it was time.

But the boy already looked beleaguered enough, he had to admit, and he wasn't sure how much more the boy would be ready to take. On the other hand, he had pronounced a punishment and he knew he had to hand out one. Except the boy used his safeword of course, but if he didn't, then he would have to do what he had announced. It was important.

Only if the top always stuck to his word and always carried out what was announced, only then the submissive could trust his master to one hundred percent. Only then the submissive would know that he always could depend on his master. And only then the submissive would always know what awaited him, only then he could feel safe and trust him.

He would carry out a punishment, but he would keep it low and he would have to be very careful.

"You do know what will come now, do you not, Harry?" He asked, piercing the teen's green and frightened eyes with his own dark ones, trying to transfer as much calmness as possible into his gaze. He would show the boy that a punishment during such a situation was different from the punishments he had grown up with. He would show the boy that he neither would beat him, nor harm him in any way.

The boy nodded at him, swallowing thickly and his fingers twitched nervously. He simply raised his eyebrow.

"Yes, Master." The brat answered.

"Good." He said. He would like to make the boy voicing that he would face a punishment, but at the same time he didn't want to push him too far right now. Not this time, they would have time. "It won't be pleasant, but it won't be cruel either. I won't make it easy for you, but I won't harm you either. I won't beat you and I won't do anything you do not want either. I won't cane you right now, nor will I do anything similar. I only will play with your senses. What is your safeword?"

The boy struggled a bit to wrap his mind around his words and what was to come, but then he gave him the correct safeword and he nodded satisfied.

"Good. Spread your legs!" He ordered, waiting for the young wizard to obey before continuing. "I trust you still do know what I expect of you."

Another nod from the boy, followed by a quick but hoarse "yes, Master" and he again inclined his head.

He concentrated onto the emotions the necklace sent over to the ring he still was wearing and then he playfully stroke his fingertip over the boy's nipple, took the again hardening piece of flesh between his thumb and forefinger and into a tight grip. He looked into the teen's face and then ran his fingernail over the erect and already painfully squeezed nub and the boy's eyes became – even if he had thought it impossible – even wider while he drew in a sharp breath.

He pulled a bit and at the same time increased the pressure of his fingernail running over the exposed and meanwhile surely hurting piece of flesh, watching the boy trying to control his squirming. Well, the more the boy squirmed, the more he would bring pain upon himself as he, Snape, kept the bud in his firm grip – what he quite did.

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Harry felt as if his knees would give way at every moment. He couldn't concentrate, he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything aside from somehow trying to not grit his teeth or curl his hands into fists.

He didn't even have to worry about not closing his eyes as the only thing he could do was to stare wide eyed at Snape, the deep, black eyes of the man the only anchor he right now had, the only thing that kept him upright, and sane, he thought.

He could feel his erection twitch every now and then and the pleasure that washed over him together with the pain Snape's fingernail caused were killing him. He didn't even know if it was the pleasure that caused the pain or if it was the pain that caused the pleasure. He simply felt as if he were in a complete different world of its own, in a world where nothing else existed aside from pain and pleasure, and he started trembling.

He didn't even realize the moment Snape finally released his nipple, and it took him a moment until he had his breathing back under control, but before he even was able to focus, Snape had his other nipple between his fingers and squeezed and pulled and then ran his fingernail over it and he couldn't help giving away a whimper. It simply was too much.

It didn't really _hurt_. Not in that kind of way he knew. Not in a normal way of pain.

A broken rib was worse, as was a kick into his stomach or a blow with his uncle's belt.

This here – yes, it hurt in some way, but not as …

He simply couldn't explain. He just knew that it wasn't anything he ever had felt before and he just knew that it wasn't anything compared to what his uncle would call a punishment. He tried to relax, knowing that Snape had been right, he wouldn't hurt him, but at the same time he wasn't able to relax.

"Please …" He couldn't help whimpering out, not able to continue with what exactly he wanted. "Please …"

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Snape's own erection tortured him, threatened to kill him, and the more the boy in front of him trembled, the more he whimpered and tried to keep from squirming, the more perspiration formed on the delicious body, the more he felt his own body responding to the sight in front of his eyes – a teenage boy that had a most desirable body and that was aroused due to his ministrations and close to a release. It was a sight after all that he had not every day.

"Please …" The boy begged, whimpered, and he knew he started to treat dangerous ice while at the same time he reminded himself that this here was meant as a 'punishment'. It wasn't supposed to be _that _easy for the boy. He wanted the boy to learn something out of this and so he leaned closer, just the moment the boy whimpered his second "Please …"

"Please what, Potter?" He asked, his own voice nearly trembling, but deep and velvet nevertheless and satisfied he noticed the boy shivering at his words.

"Please …" The teen repeated, the whimper this time a barely suppressed sob.

"Please _what_, Potter?" He asked again, increasing the already harsh grip he had on the boy's nipple, increasing the pressure of the fingernail that ran along the bud, causing the teen to finally react, to squirm with a desperate sob, just to try and stand still the moment his squirming increased the pain on his tortured flesh that was between his fingers - without success and the trembling increased.

"Please …" The boy sobbed desperately by now. "Please … no … no more … stop …"

"No." The Potions Master simply answered, enjoying the squirming, while at the same time narrowing his eyes in concentration on his brat's face. The boy was close to lose it, he was sure, if the twitching of the boy's member was any indication, and he twisted the nipple he held between his fingers, continued playing with the bud and enjoyed the desperation mixed with need and pain and stimulation he felt coming from Harry.

His brat in front of him shivered more and more, was shaking and droplets of sweat were running down the twisted face, the bare chest while he had him incoherent and in a world of pleasure and pain. Just what he'd had in mind and he smirked satisfied, knowing that he would have to be very careful now.

Snape more felt than saw the moment his submissive lost the strength to remain standing and instinctively he found himself reaching out for the teenager. His hands however did not have to go far, as the boy was already leaning against his chest, trembling and he quickly caught him before he could fall completely, turned the boy so he could press him with his back to his chest and wrapped one arm securely around the boy's waist.

He knew that it wouldn't take much now for the boy to lose control completely. He already had a teenager in his arms that was reduced to a shaking, whimpering and sobbing mess and for a moment he wondered if he had gone too far. He pressed the boy's naked body at his chest with one arm, and ran his free hand over the boy's pale and damp face with his other hand.

"Easy, brat." He whispered soothingly. "You are quite fine. I have you." He could feel the thin body in his arms relaxing, muscle for muscle, sagging against his chest. "I have you, brat." He repeated, still running his free hand over the boy's forehead and through his damp hair. "I have you and I won't release you, I won't let you fall."

The more the teen in his arms calmed down, the more his shoulders shook and he realized that his brat was crying.

It was a simple emotional breakdown and – well, he had been prepared for one, so he really shouldn't wonder now. He simply turned the boy in his arms and placing one hand at the back of Harry's head he pulled him towards his shoulder, while he stroke the fingers of his free hand over the teen's soaked back, still whispering calming words into his ears.

He could feel his brat's emotions as clearly as if they were his own and he knew that the teen's painful arousal had vanished, that the desperate struggle to obey him had made place for understanding and that the fear had made place for relief. Not a physical relief. The boy had not had an orgasm, but the relief of the knowledge that this punishment wasn't the same as his uncle's had been.

And this relief was the reason Harry right now was crying.

"I'm …"

"Do not even think of apologizing, brat." Snape calmly whispered, pushing the boy away a bit so he could look into his eyes. Harry however looked down in a way that told him that not all was well with his young submissive.

"Do you not remember what I told you, Harry?" He quietly asked. "About emotional breakdowns being the most common emergencies? How do you feel now?" He wanted to know, the question he so often asked, but yet again Harry had the feeling that he simply couldn't even really describe how he felt and he simply shook his head before lowering it. He felt the man's hand under his chin that pushed his head up gently so that he had to look at him.

"Close your eyes and feel, Harry." Severus commanded sedately. "I won't do anything, it is over, I promise. Just feel what _you_ feel, inside, feel your emotions, and allow yourself to recognize them."

"I don't know." The boy whispered after a few minutes during which he still was in his arms, and he sounded much calmer. "I … at first it was frightened that you … I mean … I'm not grown yet and you … I mean … I hadn't even ever …"

Snape's quiet but deep laugher made him lift his eyes startled, but the sound itself actually calmed him even more.

"I am not laughing at _you_, brat." He finally assured the boy. "Merely at the thought that I would abandon you because of your size. Did I not tell you that I _do_ know what I get myself into by going into a relationship with a teenager such as you?" He gripped the boy's chin and lifted his head, forced him to look at him. "Did you really think I would mind?" He leaned closer. "On the contrary, Mr. Potter." He whispered into the boy's ear. "It is a small of a handful and I am quite satisfied with it – it is _my_ small of a handful."

Well, yes. He simply couldn't leave it, his teasing.

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If the boy had asked then to just stop it, he would have done so, but as Harry hadn't, he finally had released him. Well, that had been the deal anyway, him undressing after his brat.

He had reminded him to stand still and to keep his hands at his sides and still, had ordered him to again spread his legs before he had started to undress. Well, if the brat would get a good view of him, then he too wanted to have the same. And besides, he knew how humiliating it was to have his legs spread in such a situation. The sight of the teen's again erect cock however didn't help with his own furiously beating heart.

His submissive again had to struggle to keep his hands still, he noticed with a smirk, his fingers twitching every now and then, and he refused to look anywhere else than his face. He lifted his eyebrow while shoving down his shorts and dared the boy to look.

Said boy did, look – at his throat first, at his chest, his stomach, and then Harry's gaze dropped lower and he swallowed thickly while his eyes went wide and startled, causing Snape to wonder if the boy ever had seen another cock in such a regard before. But then – this blasted man of an uncle had made Potter touching him, so yes, he surely had seen … and again he knew how dangerous the ice he treated was, how carefully he would have to be if he didn't want to frighten or startle his brat.

The boy had seen his blasted uncle – and had been forced to touch him. He would have to be careful so the boy would not fear that he, Snape, would demand the same from him and slowly taking the few steps towards Potter he saw the boy's Adam's apple bob as the brat swallowed thickly and forced his spooked eyes up again.

Harry couldn't help swallowing at Snape's jutting cock that was released the moment he had pulled his shorts down, long and thick, and he couldn't help wondering how in Merlin's name he would be able to handle it.

Of course he had seen other males' members before. In the shower, even if he preferred showering at such a late hour that he normally was alone. And he had seen them in the Quidditch changing rooms, and in his dorm. But well, that all had been the members of other children like him, of teenagers, not of adults.

The only other adult he ever had seen was his uncle. And he shuddered. This one had been flabby and slack, and ugly and … and …

His eyes wandered back down to Snape's cock and again he had to swallow. Snape's was tight and firm and … and large … and it wasn't flabby or slack … and … it wasn't ugly either.

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He had led the startled boy to the sofa, soon realizing why the teen had been so startled, the youth's mind wide open. It hadn't even taking him legillimens to see anything and he simply had taken the blanket from the backrest and had dropped the fabric over both of them while they both had still the contact between their naked bodies. He didn't need more and neither did Harry, of that he was sure. But at the same time he would not back away now. The young wizard he held in his arms would have to get used to skin contact anyway.

"What else did you feel?" He finally asked, nearly startling the teen with his question.

"Well … I … it was … I never before … but …" The teenager tried to explain and he had to force himself to remain calm and patient, knowing that it was important to give Harry time to form his words. "But … it was too much … I mean … at first it was … but then … but then it became … I felt as if … I don't know, it simply was too much and I just wanted it to stop."

Frowning down at the teenager in his arms he lowered his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.

"Why did you not use your safeword?" He softly asked.

"I … I don't know … I mean … I forgot … I didn't remember … I … and I wasn't sure …"

"You were not sure if I would have really stopped." Snape simply stated. Well, he actually had thought such might happen. The brat's fears while discussing safewords in the first place had been indication enough that he still didn't trust such a thing as a safeword. But …

"Why?" He asked.

"Because … well, I mean … I had …" The teenager in his arms closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then turned his face away. "You explained what a safeword was and suddenly I knew why my uncle never stopped when I begged him to, why he never stopped when I said 'no' or 'stop' and I suddenly knew that it had been my own fault. I mean maybe I had missed the safeword he gave me or maybe I forgot it and he simply would have stopped if I had used it and …"

"No Harry!" Snape growled, turning the boy in his arms so he could face him more easily, grabbing the teen's chin in a firm grip and forcing him to look at him. "This had not been your fault and don't you dare taking the blame for this. Your uncle did not even _consider _something like a safeword and he never would have accepted one either. The 'no' or 'stop' you tried to stop him with simply pushed him deeper into his evilness as he enjoyed having you begging and at his mercy without giving mercy. It had nothing to do with you forgetting a safeword as there simply _was _none. It had however anything to do with sexual abuse and that for rape, even if you might not see it this way yet."

He sighed and going through the boy's words in his head he sensed that there might have been more than Dursley simply forcing Harry to touch him, even if the boy maybe didn't remember, maybe having it suppressed in his mind somehow. Well, he would find out, he promised himself.

"I to do enjoy having you at my mercy, as you definitely might have noticed by now, by today's happenings especially, but contrary to your uncle, I never will disregard a safeword and considering that you told me you didn't remember it, I think we should find something that will come more easily to your mind. What is it that you think of, the moment you feel the need to stop all actions? What had it been you were thinking at the moment you wanted me to stop?"

They had talked a bit longer and he had felt really bad at not noticing that his submissive had been pushed too far by him, had been pushed over the edge because he had not stopped in time. He had not known that Harry had forgotten his safeword, the boy had known it just a few minutes before, but he should have thought about the fact that this _could _have happened. Yet, he hadn't, and he had apologized to the teenager who had been shaking his head startled, telling him that it hadn't been his fault.

Said teenager however clearly was mentally exhausted now and when he next looked down he found the boy sleeping with his head and arm across his, Snape's chest. He watched as he slept and lifting his hand he carded his fingers through the boy's hair, thinking.

It was the first time in many years that he felt so much love for one person, and Harry had made it possible. Now, all Snape wanted was to claim the brat as his and nobody else's. But he knew this had to wait. The boy wasn't ready for this yet.

Harry was about to drift off into sleep when a hand brushed his fringe away and he sleepily glanced up. Snape was still awake, the dark eyes watching him and Harry gave away a content sigh.

"You're pretty good-looking." He murmured in his daze while closing his eyes again and off he was, in the land of the dreaming, while the Potions Master himself stared at the boy in his arms.

That simple, innocent words, spoken when the boy was half-asleep, and probably completely unaware of what he was speaking out aloud, was one of the few, true compliments he had ever received in his life for something other than his potions. Because yes – people always had wanted him for his skill at potions, but no one ever – aside from Lily – had desired him sexually, not even the male whores he had used to pay for and he tightened the grip he had on the boy.

How could that blasted child be so blissfully unaware of what he had done to him? Of what he was doing to him?

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Will the Dursleys sign the papers that would allow Harry and Severus to bond?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	17. visiting monsters and demons

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

I also have to apologize - this is not a new chapter … I simply had to alter the last few chapters so that I can continue with this story more easily … it's been a long time after all since I last have been here in this one … but well - I promised you that I would try continuing with this story and currently I am - successfully - writing on the next chapter, chapter 18, that will be up due to next weekend …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_That simple, innocent words, spoken when the boy was half-asleep, and probably completely unaware of what he was speaking out aloud, was one of the few, true compliments he had ever received in his life for something other than his potions. Because yes – people always had wanted him for his skill at potions, but no one ever – aside from Lily – had desired him sexually, not even the male whores he had used to pay for and he tightened the grip he had on the boy._

_How could that blasted child be so blissfully unaware of what he had done to him? Of what he was doing to him?_

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter ****seventeen**

**Visiting monsters and demons**

Severus Snape was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet and drinking a cup of coffee. He normally would drink tea, but there simply were some days – like today for example – where he just _needed_ a cup of coffee. And the prospect of what was to come today – it simply _screamed_ for a cup of coffee – hot, black and strong, while Harry was standing at the counter, his back turned towards him and pouring hot milk into a cup.

The box of cocoa floating from the cupboard in the far corner towards Harry and the boy's hand reaching out into the air to catch the box had him nearly choking on his coffee and slowly he placed the cup back onto the table, his eyes never leaving the teenager who stirred some of the cocoa into his hot milk as if nothing out of the ordinary had been displayed.

The Potions Master sat still for a moment, only his eyebrow rising at the teenager, before his thoughts realigned themselves and slowly he got to his feet and approached the adolescent.

"How, Mr. Potter, did you do that?" He quietly but firmly asked, causing the boy to give a silent and startled cry away and to jump into the air, the cup with the hot cocoa he had been holding in his hands, warming his fingers on the hot porcelain as he so often did, falling to the floor and shattering into thousands of pieces. Swallowing thickly the teen looked up at the older wizard before he lowered his eyes at the shards with a quietly whispered "I'm sorry", just before he dropped to his knees to pick them up.

"Stop!" Snape commanded sharply the moment Harry picked up a shard and with another startled gasp the boy dropped the piece of porcelain before putting his finger into his mouth to suck on it.

Sighing Snape bent down and took a hold on the boy's shoulders, pulling him up to his feet and leading him to one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table.

"There is no need to apologize, Harry." The older wizard said, cursing himself for his harsh demeanour with the boy, but he quickly straightened and took a step away from the brat to give him some space. "It is I who has to apologize. I did not wish to startle you. I was rather startled by myself."

Pulling out the boy's finger from his mouth and drawing his wand Snape ran the black piece of wood over the cut, muttering a quick healing charm and he shook his head.

"Sometimes I wonder if you ever remember the fact that you are a wizard, Harry." He said. "Picking up the shards with your hands instead of using magic to simply banish the mess and repair the cup." Taking a jar from a small cupboard beside the stove he massaged a healing balm into the now close cut. "Seeing however your last performance of magic, I have to wonder if you really forget or if you simply like to fool me."

The boy blinking up at him with questioning green eyes nearly had him hitching a breath at the sight and he again lifted his eyebrow to cover this little fact from the teenager.

"What performance of magic?" The brat actually asked and the Potions Master lowered his head to one side.

"The bit of magic you performed just a minute ago." He said. "Summoning the cocoa box without using your wand and without saying a word either?"

"What?" Harry asked, blinking at him in confusion. "I didn't …"

The brat looked at the box of cocoa that still stood on the countertop, then to the cupboard where it belonged to and finally back to the cocoa box, his mind whirling and Snape could see the exact moment the teenager understood, going pale and then looking up at him in shock.

"I … I don't … I don't know …" The boy gasped.

As it seemed, the boy hadn't even known what exactly he had done just a moment ago.

"Summon the box again." Snape ordered and the boy looked over at the cocoa unsurely, before gazing back at him.

"But … but I don't know how!" The adolescent exclaimed.

"Do not think about it, just _do_ it." The Potions Master said, his voice low and calm and his dark eyes intensive on his submissive's startled face.

A moment later the box of cocoa floated over to the kitchen table and hovered in front of the teen's face, nudging his forehead impatiently when the boy didn't reach out to take it.

"But that … that is … that is impossible." The teen still gasped, shocked, still not reaching out to take the box. "I … I …" He finally looked up at the man, helplessly and frightened.

"Do not be startled, brat." Snape quietly said, lowering himself onto one knee in front of the teen and finally taking the box, playing it at the table. "I do not know _how_ you suddenly managed this kind of magic, but it is nothing that you should be frightened about. I will run a few tests throughout next week, but do not tell anyone about this yet. Maybe …" A thoughtful look crossed his face for a moment. "Maybe this is the weapon the Dark Lord knows not. It is a very rare gift, being able to do wandless _and_ speechless magic, Harry. Most wizards struggle with either of the two to perform. I would not even tell Dumbledore yet."

He watched the teen nodding silently before he got up and simply waved his wand over the mess, repairing the broken cup and cleaning away the spilled cocoa. He got a new cup from the cupboard, poured hot milk and added cocoa before bringing the cup over to the still dazed teen sitting at the kitchen table.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I have another topic I wanted to discuss with you, Harry." He said later, after they had finished breakfast and Harry had recovered from the shock of his unconsciously performed magic. Well, the next shock was about to approach and Snape wasn't sure if the boy would handle this one as well as he had handled the last one.

But he knew it was necessary. Not only if he wanted to bond with the brat, but also if he wanted the boy out of that household before next summer. He simply needed guardianship over the boy in order to keep him safe.

The brat looked up at him, curiously.

"As you are not of age yet, we need permission to bond." He said, looking at the teen. The boy smiled at him and gave a nod and a short "no problem, sir." away, indicating that he was alright with this.

"Who's permission? And where would we get it?" The boy asked, curiously. If it only were as easy as this, he thought.

"There actually _is _a problem, Harry." He said. "In order to get this particular permission, we have to visit Vernon and Petunia Dursley."

There was a second or two during which nothing happened, but then Snape frowned the moment he noticed how pale Potter suddenly looked, his eyes growing wide and frightened and the fragile body tensing up immediately.

Uncle Vernon would kill him. Uncle Vernon would kill him on the spot. He would kill him the moment he …

It would just show how big of a freak he was, that he now was going to be married to a professor and a male one at that. He couldn't … he would be dead the moment he entered number four … he couldn't face them … uncle Vernon never would sign for such a thing … he couldn't face them alone … they would lock him into the cupboard and never ever again allow him out … he simply couldn't …

"Breathe, Harry." He at one point heard the Potions Master's voice reaching through his thoughts, wondering why Snape told him to breathe until he noticed that he actually had trouble breathing and not understanding what right now had happened he looked up at the older wizard that was reaching out to him and pulling him up, leading him into the parlor and over to the sofa.

"They never will …" He finally whispered. "It's impossible … I can't …"

"You won't be alone." Snape seriously said, sitting at the coffee table so he was somewhat at eyelevel with the boy. "I will go with you. I will not have you going there alone, but you have to be present as it is a magical contract that automatically transfers guardianship over to me."

"They won't sign it." Harry murmured. "They would say it isn't normal. My uncle will have a fit. He will …"

"He will do nothing else than signing the contract." Snape said reassuringly. "I will make sure of it."

"You don't know him." Harry whispered, his eyes haunted.

"There is no need to know him, and neither do I have the wish doing so." Severus growled darkly. "Believe me, he _will_ sign the papers."

"But … uncle Vernon will say that he won't allow such an abnormal thing. But it isn't, is it?" The boy asked, his scared eyes nearly begging him for something, begging him to tell him that it wasn't abnormal. "I mean, I know that it isn't the normal way. Normally a boy and a girl come together, they date, and then they kiss. They marry and they start a family and have children. That's the normal way. But … I mean, that what we have … what we're doing … it isn't abnormal, is it? There are others …"

"No, it is not abnormal, Harry." The Potions Master said seriously. "In the wizarding world it is quite a normal thing to do and there are a lot of couples like us. In the early times there even had been much more. It was called an educational relationship as the junior partner learned from the senior partner everything that could be learned. Etiquette, academics, sexual relations, simply everything. The muggles do not know such etiquette and so this culture is often viewed as a subculture, mainly because in the muggle world mostly BDSM is still regarded as 'ill', 'bizarre' or 'perverse' by a large segment of the public and the media. Many people hide their leaning from society since they are afraid of social exclusion. Today, the BDSM culture exists in most wizarding countries. This offers BDSM practitioners the opportunity to discuss BDSM relevant topics and problems with like-minded people."

He watched Harry who still looked scared and unsure. The boy had come a long way since he first had knocked on his door with a question that had had him angry at the first time but that had been the beginning of their relationship they now shared. The teen had started seeing things like being touched by a man in intimate places or being blindfolded while being touched, being restrained by his, Snape's, hands, that those things were nothing to be afraid of. He had learned that making a sound of arousal was nothing that was forbidden or wrong and he had learned that pleasure itself was nothing bad or dirty. He had learned to undress in front of him and even if he still was feeling embarrassed about it, it had been a very long way in a short time.

Of course he knew that other boys Harry's age already had sex one way or another and that they weren't as startled and as spooked by undressing or being undressed, but Merlin, the first time they had discussed this particular topic the boy hadn't even been able to give a coherent sentence away, let alone a few coherent words and considering the teen's past, the abuse he had been through, and the neglect, it was quite understandable.

"Misunderstandings may arise from general lack of knowledge concerning sexuality and sexual practices, as well as misconceptions on how one's personal life and public persona can vary." Snape continued, knowing that he had to bring it down for the boy to understand and knowing that the boy had to understand. Harry's desperate question was proof enough that the boy had understood in his mind, but not in his heart, that he still was unsure. "For example, generally it is assumed that a submissive would prefer to experience pain and degradation in their everyday life, or conversely, that they would prefer to have exactly the opposite. A further misconception is that members of BDSM communities want only to be hurt or to inflict physical, psychological and mental pain, which diminishes and ridicules the emotional and spiritual relationships that actually develops."

He stood and walked over to the sideboard, taking a glass and pouring water from a pitcher into it. He brought it back to the sitting area and handed it over to Harry.

"Drink!" He ordered quietly and sat back down onto the coffee table before continuing. "Quite often the picture of BDSM is reduced to the idea of crude corporal punishment, neglecting the broad spectrum of behaviours within the culture. And another misconception is the idea of women generally being the dominant party in BDSM relationships. But in BDSM, roles are not fixed to gender, but personal preferences. Do _you _think that it is wrong what we are doing?"

The boy, visibly startled over being questioned suddenly blinked at him for a moment before finally shaking his head.

"No." He then said. "I don't think that it's wrong. But … I don't understand it. I don't understand it why I'm not like most others. I don't think that it's wrong, but I don't understand it."

"Of course you don't." Snape said. "At the beginning of our conversations I told you, you could choose a quiet and easy relationship with a woman or you could choose a passionate and intense relationship with a partner the same gender as you. While you always have a choice, and so you do have in this regards too, I nevertheless knew what you would _'choose'_. Being gay is not something you simply choose, and neither is being lesbian. It is not a preference, it is nothing you simply _want _to have. You are like this, or you are not. If you had gone against your natural being, if you would have _'chosen'_ a woman just so you are _'normal'_, you soon would have been really unhappy in your marriage and it would not have lasted for more than a few years. You always would have been disgusted with yourself and maybe with the woman you married. You are who you are, Harry, and no one can change that, nor should you try it yourself just so you are considered _'normal'_ in the eyes of others, for it is _not _abnormal being gay."

"My uncle will not see it that way." The boy still whispered, closing his eyes tightly. Fear at the prospect that he would have to face his uncle again, and with something like _that_, was still choking him but then footsteps passed him from behind and for a moment a heavy, warm hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it.

"I will be with you." The dark voice of Snape said. "And I will ensure that they do not even try to touch you. They have no power over you anymore, Harry. Nobody does and it is time you begin to realize that. I will be there with you the moment you take this step."

The Potions Master glanced down at the boy that was staring at the floor again, lost in thoughts, or memories, he didn't know. The brat looked so young that he was overcome by a strange desire – to pull the younger male into his arms and to never let him go ever again, to reassure Potter that he was safe, that he would be safe with him, Snape, never mind what, that he always would be on his side, never mind what.

"Are you ready to get it over with, Potter?" He asked, laying his hand lightly on his brat's forearm. He however made the mistake of looking at the teen right then and again found that his young submissive was almost white with fear and his glare softened.

"No." The teenager whispered. "But I guess I have no choice in this."

"Remember what I told you." Snape gently said. "You _always _have a choice. You have the choice to say 'no'."

"I do want this." The younger wizard whispered. "I do want to be with you. So I have no choice. I have to do this."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was barely an hour later that Snape and Harry stood in front of number four, Privet Drive, the Potions Master having them apparated into the muggle district, and Snape firmly knocked onto the door of which he knew would lead the teen beside him into his worst nightmares. He gave an encouraging inclination of his head towards the boy that stood beside him, radiating more than just primal fear, radiating sheer panic, and he prepared himself for a very, very difficult and dangerous visit, prepared himself for a panic attack from the boy at one point or another.

He didn't really know Vernon Dursley, having met him just once, years ago when Lily had dragged him to her sister for tea once. She never ever again had dragged him there, and he remembered this particular afternoon just too well. Maybe he should have told Harry this story beforehand, the boy surely wouldn't be so scared then.

A young man opened the door, Potter's age, he guessed, but more than just thrice his size and weight, with blond hair and a spoiled expression on his fat face. It definitely was a boy that got everything he wanted and as soon as he wanted it and Snape knew that it must have been Dudley Dursley, Harry's cousin.

"Yeah?" The boy asked and Snape sneered in disgust at this display in lack of manners. "What'd you want?" Well, he always had thought that Potter had been disrespectful, but watching this boy, he knew that Potter had been the most respectful creature on this earth.

"Be as kind as to inform Petunia Dursley, nee Evans that Severus Snape is here to see her." He calmly said, though he still was not able to hide the disgust he felt at the boy-whale and he was glad that Harry had nothing in common with his cousin.

Shuffling away and leaving the door open the whale made his way through the entrance hallway, waddling, and Snape simply placed his hand between Harry's shoulder blades and shoved the reluctant teen inside before closing the front door with a flick of his wrist and a softly muttered incantation.

"Snape?" Came Petunia Dursley's shocked voice from the other end of the hallway. "What are _you_ doing here? After so many years?" Well, the woman definitely was too shocked, Snape thought, if she changed more words with him than absolutely necessary.

"It is – as always – a _pleasure_ to see you too, Petunia." The Potions Master sneered and Harry wondered how he could be so cold while still being polite. "As you say – it has been far too long since we last met. I see that the years have been – kind – to you."

Despite his rising panic Harry nearly laughed at the older wizard's words, but the fear overtook the upper hand and he simply couldn't laugh. Maybe he could ask Snape if he could review this memory in his pensive one day.

A strong hand on his shoulder pushed him forward, even as Harry fought with all his might against the fear that had increased to a point where he would like to simply turn and run and not even the picture of aunt Petunia blinking at the Potions Master in clear shock could help him right now.

"I am here for business, Petunia." Snape then said. "If we might use your parlor? I need to see your husband as well."

"What?" The woman asked in confusion, but then just nodded. "Oh … of course, Snape. Don't stand here like a lazy lump! Go, and make tea, boy!" The woman hissed at Harry who flinched and was just about to obey when Snape's hand that still was placed firmly on his shoulder tightened its grip.

"Mr. Potter's presence will be required too, Petunia, dear." Snape drawled and Harry was not sure if aunt Petunia knew that this drawl was the beginning of a very dangerous Potions Master. He however wasn't sure what the man's use of the term 'dear' meant also and he guessed that he was about to get more than just dangerous. Tugging at his shirt nervously, he took a deep breath, steeling himself as he walked after aunt Petunia and in front of Snape into the sitting room.

"What the hell …" Vernon Dursley exploded the moment he saw Harry entering after his wife, panting and with some difficulties getting up from the sofa he had been sitting at, but Snape recognized the short headshake the woman gave him, the pointed look at him, Snape, and he knew that they were about to play nice family, probably fearing that he was here because of some injuries their nephew had gained during his stay here and trying to cover everything up.

Well, he would play their games – for a while.

"That's Severus Snape, Vernon, dear. I'll be back in a minute, I'll just make tea." Aunt Petunia said, disappearing into the kitchen and Harry wondered when she had learned to make tea. Aunt Petunia however didn't seem to know that Snape was a professor on his school now, or she would have introduced him as such.

"Well, take a seat, then, Mr. Snape." Uncle Vernon boomed, waving his hand at one of the armchairs opposite the sofa and Harry blinked in near shock. Uncle Vernon? Allowing a freak to sit on one of his armchairs? He definitely would throw them away afterwards and buy new ones, he was sure of that.

Watching Dursley, Snape noticed that the whale of a man did not seem to remember him and he actually considered reminding him at this rather funny – at least for him – afternoon tea party to which Lily had dragged him years ago.

Harry had resorted to his usual protective stance of wrapping his arms around himself while looking up at him, Snape noticed, and he again placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, leading him towards one of the armchairs and gently pushing him down onto the furniture. He took in the scared look Harry threw at his uncle at this and he noticed the furious look Dursley threw at his nephew, and he knew he had to keep an eye on the man – as well as on Harry. The boy was close to falling apart with a fear he felt coming through the pendant his submissive was wearing, that was incredible primal and instinctive and he nearly growled in anger.

"_Professor_ Snape." He however corrected calmly. He had a title and he insisted on being addressed by it. "Mr. Vernon Dursley, I presume?" He asked. Neither the man had introduced himself, nor had his wife, a really _gracious_ display of manners.

"Ah, Professor." Dursley nodded, casting a nasty glare hidden behind a false smile at Harry. "Then you are a teacher at the school the boy visits?"

"Indeed I am." Snape answered. "I am the Potions Master and head of Slytherin house at Hogwarts."

"Po … potions?" Dursley inquired and he could sense the man's anger of having to have a conversation about magic in his house.

"Potions, yes. It is the subject I teach at Hogwarts." He patiently explained, not sure if he should feel amused or rather irritated. He could see that Dursley desperately tried to act as every normal parent would act. "It is what muggles would call chemistry."

"Ah … and how is the … boy doing?" Dursley wanted to know.

"Potions definitely is not Mr. Potter's most favourite subject." He drawled, his eyes coldly resting on the man in front of him. "He is doing rather well nevertheless. At least he has not poisoned anyone yet."

"Poisoned?" The whale of a man asked, looking startled at the boy before narrowing his eyes.

"Indeed, Mr. Dursley." The Potions Master smirked, leaning back in his armchair, enjoying the situation very much. He knew well that Harry had been cooking for them without being allowed to partake in the meals and he knew that Dursley came to the same conclusion as he. "In my subject we cover quite a lot of poisonous potions and their antidotes." Yes – it definitely was fun to play with the food before eating, he thought. He never again would ridicule his submissive for doing just that.

"Mr. Potter is very good at defence against the dark arts, though." He continued as if enjoying having a conversation about one of his students with his parents. Well, he wasn't a spy for nothing after all and he knew he could play his act. "In his first year he fought against a mountain troll – and lived to tell the tale. Followed by a basilisk in his second year and a dragon in his fourth year. Nothing every student can claim for himself." He said conversationally just the moment Petunia Dursley entered with a tray of tea and placed it in the midst of the living room table.

"A dragon?" The woman asked, looking as if she had swallowed a particularly sour lemon, while she poured the tea. "If I remember correctly, then Lily told that they were banned from Britain."

"They are, Petunia, dear." Snape said, leaning forwards to take a cup of the tea, waving his wand over the cup to ensure it wasn't poisoned – and to enjoy the flinch both Dursley's gave away – and reaching it towards Harry before taking a cup for himself. "The ministry of magic however allowed four dragons being lead in for the duration of the triwizard tournament during your nephew's fourth year, in which Harry participated and won despite the fact that he was the youngest participant."

"So – the boy is doing well at school?" Petunia asked with pursed lips.

"Actually, yes." Snape said, leaning back again and watching Vernon Dursley closely. "Despite the fact that he had lived in an abusive household."

Well, those words had driven the point home and both Dursleys spluttered on their tea.

Petunia Dursley paled and then looked frightened for a moment before she shoved her chin forth defiantly while Vernon Dursley's face became as red as a beetroot and he placed the cup down at the table, hard, causing Harry beside him to flinch violently.

"I don't know what you're speaking about." The idiot hissed, casting a warning glare at Harry who shrunk back in his armchair. "Whatever the boy had told you, he obviously had been lying to you."

Snape still was leaning back in his armchair, calmly, arms crossed over his chest and looking every bit the formidable wizard he was, even without his black robes.

"Really?" The man growled, a low feral growl that had Harry shivering and the teen thought it was funny how Snape could manage to sound polite and scary at the same time.

"We never have laid a hand on the boy!" Dursley exclaimed, panting heavily with anger.

"Oh, then it surely must have been a mistake on my side, coming to the wrong conclusion when I saw all the scars and injuries on Mr. Potter's body." He quietly and calmly drawled, taking a sip of his tea as if he had no worries in the world, causing the boy beside him to look between him and his uncle as if he would watch a muggle tennis match. Only that he wouldn't have looked as scared then.

"The boy just is so clumsy and inept." Petunia said, trying a reassuring smile. "He really is a hopeless case. Always fell down the stairs."

"Of course, Petunia, dear." Snape seriously nodded in understanding. "I presume the belts and the canes just fell on Mr. Potter to cause whip marks on his back. And the boy simply was malnourished and starved because he always has forgotten to eat."

He glanced towards Harry who was sitting beside him with bent shoulders, his face pale and the small hands in his lap trembling. His young submissive looked so small and lost here, like he wanted nothing more than to run and honestly, Severus couldn't blame him and he placed a calming hand on his brat's lower arm.

"What exactly are you accusing us of?" Vernon Dursley demanded and finally the Potions Master placed his cup of tea onto the table and straightened up. He wanted to have both hands free now and he wanted to be ready to stand.

"I accuse you of child neglect and child abuse." He drawled calmly. "I accuse you of starving a child and locking him away in a cupboard for days after beating him to a point very far beyond toleration."

"I don't know what you're speaking of." Dursley said, getting off the sofa, again with much panting and difficulties. Harry beside him too scrambled out of the armchair, quickly standing behind the furniture, out of Dursley's range, into safety, and he, Snape, followed the example. Only slower and calmer and without going to hide behind the armchair but facing his brat's uncle dangerously.

"We always have fed the boy. We have given him food out of our own son's mouth and out of pure kind-heartedness."

"Fed him? You call that feeding, Dursley? The rats in the drain got fed better than Mr. Potter has been by you!" Snape snarled, darkly and icily, drawing his wand and his fingers tightened around the black and warm wood. "A derelict is better dressed than the rags you have allowed Mr. Potter to wear and a house elf is better treated than you have treated Mr. Potter over the years!"

Harry tried to stand still, knowing the punishment whenever he fidgeted in front of the Dursleys and he knew Snape's sharp tongue about fidgeting students just as well, but he just was too nervous and scared to stand still. He didn't know what Snape wanted, why he addressed the Dursleys with this.

"That boy had been enough trouble over the years!" Dursley finally lost it and screamed. "Of course we had to punish him!"

At that Snape moved, smoothly, causing Harry to back away instinctively, and within a second he had pinned the larger man towards the wall effortlessly and with a strength that seemed incredible. Snape surely wasn't the most muscular body builder after all, and he growled, a low feral growl and Harry instinctively took another step back.

"Of course." He drawled. "It is such trouble, planning punishments such as beatings, starvation and imprisonment on a small child, isn't it?" His eyes settled purposefully on Vernon's belt and the man actually had the grace to pale. "I have seen the results of your handiwork, Dursley. Lying to me will only make me the more angry."

With a last shove he released the man, causing a startled squeal from the boy-whale that had appeared in the doorway, attracted by the shouting voices downstairs, and he stepped back towards Harry to have a look at his submissive. He didn't like the panic coming from his brat's pendant and he looked down at the teen with concern in his dark eyes. Faint tremors were making the smaller body next to him shake and Severus reached out with a hand to lay it on the still too bony shoulder.

"What do you want from me?" Dursley gasped after regaining some control over his own fear and the Potions Master's eyes snapped over at the man.

"At first, I suggest you send your son from the room." He replied dangerously, not waiting if the boy actually left before continuing but noticing that Petunia had the sense to send the boy away.

"Now, you have two options, Dursley." Severus said and held out his hand towards Harry and the teen hesitantly placed his smaller one into his, staring at the sight of the Potions Master's larger hand covering his smaller one, as if he was trying to memorize the moment.

"As Mr. Potter is a minor, he needs your permission if he wants to marry." Snape growled darkly, his voice low and dangerously calm and he released Harry's hand, took a step back towards Dursley. "I have the permission papers that transfer guardianship over to me here with me and I want you to sign them. Now! The other option is – I will punish you for years of abuse you have afflicted on the boy, and believe me, I do know quite a few dark spells that would be rather unpleasant and that would last for a few years."

"You cannot …"

"I _can_ – and I _will_ Dursley." Snape growled, leaning closer into the man's face who tried to lean back, as far against the wall as possible. "Just ask your dear wife, Dursley. I am sure Petunia remembers a few of my favourite spells I have used against the neighbourhood children that had threatened Lily."

"Why would the boy want to marry someone in the first place?" Petunia finally joined the – _conversation_. "He's only sixteen."

"I think that is none of your business, Petunia, dear." Snape growled back at her.

"Maybe the freak has managed to get a girl pregnant!" She squealed and turning sharply at her he saw Harry standing in the corner, his eyes wide with horror and his head shaking frantically in terror while the teen's entire frame was shaking like a leaf in the wind. It was a picture that didn't sit well with him and concern overtook his fury momentarily.

"Actually, Petunia, _Harry_ has done absolutely nothing." He growled. "It is me, who is claiming your nephew as my husband and now you better sign those permission papers before I lose control over myself and before you learn to know my wrath. Maybe you understand now in what kind of danger you are as I am not here to act as Harry's teacher but his future husband. Thus you have not simply harmed a student of me, what would have been worse enough, but you have harmed my future husband. Maybe you think quickly now!"

Harry barely recognized the older wizard's last words. There was one word that reverberated in his mind over and over again.

_Freak_ …

The word that had accompanied him throughout his entire childhood.

_Freak_ …

The word that seemed to follow him through his entire life too.

_Freak_ …

The word that he couldn't get rid of, never mind how hard he tried.

_Freak_ …

The word that …

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"That is …" Vernon Dursley gasped for words. "That is … you … you abnormal and disgusting, filthy freaks! You … I won't allow the boy to marry …"

With a flick of his wand the man was silenced and the Potions Master turned towards the landlady, even if he didn't dare speaking of Petunia Dursley as a lady. Lily had been one, but her older sister was nothing else than a horse faced, nasty, horrible, cold and uncaring woman that had neglected and starved her own nephew for years, locked him into a cupboard and allowed her husband to beat the child half to death. And they dare speaking of the boy as …

His dark eyes hardened at her and his face grew into a cold mask. "Well?" He coldly asked her while lifting his eyebrow at the woman.

"Well, I will tell you, something, boy." Petunia hissed. "I will sign those papers, but you will listen and after that I never want to see you ever again."

Turning towards the teenager Snape gazed at him questioningly, studying the boy's haunted green eyes and for a moment he considered if he really should allow the woman to spread her poison into the boy's mind, but then Harry nodded and he could see the teenager's strength of will in his frightened green eyes. Slowly he turned back towards the woman, regarding her with his hardest gaze, the one that had even his seventh year students wetting themselves.

"Well, boy." Petunia hissed. "All of the punishments we had to give you had been your own fault! None of our troubles would have happened if you hadn't been born. The moment you came into our lives, everything went downhill. Without you, Lily wouldn't have been killed. But it happened and it is your fault. You should have died back then, and I should have let Vernon put you out when we had the chance, good riddance. I should have left you on the doorstep and let you freeze to death! It's your fault Lily died! It was _you_ who killed her! And others. Your mother died to protect you, well I wish you had died with her, because you are nothing but trouble. Have fun with your husband, you will get what you deserve when he starts to beat you too …"

Enough was enough, and with another flick of his wand Snape silenced the woman too, before turning towards the teenager that stood dozed like a statue.

Aunt Petunia had hissed at him with a hate she barely had displayed towards him in all those years before while uncle Vernon had nodded at each sentence of her, smirking, and Harry felt his chest clenching in agony. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes and he closed them tightly while he swallowed and tried to keep standing, to not simply drop to the floor right where he stood.

A moment later Snape had a strong hand on both of Harry's shoulders but the frightened green eyes were fixed on his uncle who smirked at him evilly and the Potions Master knew that he should had listened to his gut feeling and simply should have forced them to sign the papers without allowing the woman to speak.

Fear gripped Harry, a primal fear, the same fear that had kept him from opening his mouth whenever uncle Vernon spoke to him and he went slack in the Potions Master's grip.

"I'm sorry … I didn't want this … I didn't want any of this … I'm so …" The brat chocked out.

He managed to grab Potter even as the brat started struggling in his arms, breathing heavily, and he was thankful for the distraction that the brat caused him, because he was one breath away from hexing the Dursleys into hell and back just to hex them into hell once more.

"Look at me, Harry!" The Potions Master demanded, firmly but gently, trying to get the boy to look at him, to get his gaze away from the man that had tortured him for years, but the teen simply didn't obey, not able to tear his gaze off the man that was smirking evilly at him, enjoying the scene before him enough so he didn't even feel the need to attack the boy, giving him the satisfaction of winning this battle over the boy's emotions.

"Eyes up, Potter!" He repeated his order, his voice dark and velvet, calm, but harsher this time, but Harry shook his head mutely.

"Potter, damn it, obey me for once!" Snape whispered, his eyes piercing the boy, not pleased with fact that the boy gave his uncle such an amount of power over him. He knew that the boy simply wasn't able to – damn, he had trouble keeping from losing his grip on the struggling boy while he felt a basic survival need to flee coming from the teen through the pendant and he used more force, the boy being no match for the Potions Master and he crushed Potter to his chest, locking his arms over the smaller wizard's chest and held him there, regardless of the kicks he got.

In a desperate need to help his brat he allowed his magic to rise and to sooth the teenager who went still and limp in his arms and for a moment he even feared the boy had lost consciousness, but the moment he glanced down into the pale face the green eyes were hazy with pain as the younger male bowed his head and rested it against Severus' chest, his body shaking in his arms.

"Let me go please." The voice was so soft that the older wizard feared he had misunderstood. "Please, release me. I can't …" The boy repeated, his voice barely above a low whisper.

"No, Harry." Snape quietly answered, trying to sound as calm as possible while he continued to hold on the smaller body. "I won't leave you alone now. I promised you that I would be there, right beside you. We will go through this together, I won't leave you. Just calm down, I am quite here and I won't abandon you."

Severus moved his hands up and down in a soothing manner as he pressed the boy even tighter against his chest while he turned towards the other occupants in the room, thus effectively blocking the boy's view of them.

He dared taking one hand off the boy that had gone limp in his grip and with a flick of his wand the parchments appeared on the living room table, unrolling themselves.

"Sign them." He finally hissed at the Dursleys, ignoring the flinch the teen he held secured in his arms gave away, while he had his wand trained at them. "Now!"

The silent sobs that overcame the younger male were causing his chest to clench painfully while he continued to hold Potter, to watch the Dursleys sign the papers and the moment both signatures were on the papers that coiled up by themselves and floated over to him and into the pocket of his jacket, he could feel a tingling sensation running through his body.

The wards at Privet Drive had fallen and guardianship over Harry James Potter had been transferred to him, Severus Tobias Snape. He breathed a sigh of relief and then he did the only thing he could think of doing in such a dire situation – he pulled the boy up into his arms. One arm went around the small but shakingly heaving shoulders as he pressed the younger wizard's body against his chest while his other arm sneaked underneath the boy's knees and he carried the still too light teenager out of the house, pressing his cheek against the top of the unruly hair.

"You foolish boy." Snape whispered, so softly that Harry barely heard him but he knew in that instant that as Snape's dark eyes locked with his, he would always be safe and that this moment belonged to them and them alone, regardless of their audience.

He moved outside and drew Harry closer to him, to secure him for apparating them back to Hogwarts and noticed just how heavily the boy was shaking. Making a lightening-quick decision he pulled the boy closer up his arms and a moment later he landed in his study at Prince Manor instead of in front of the Hogwarts gates.

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_After the war – one of my favourite songs by Maiden … just came to my mind. No, the next chapter won't be a songfic, as all the lyrics that are or will be in my stories are done by me, the next chapter __just could be described as after the war – or the Dursleys …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you …


	18. Lady Grey and a glass swan

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

_Story contains references to child abuse:_

Child abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped, and closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once being abused … with understanding and with help …

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

_Story contains adult stuff:_

Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things … not to mention that the relationship between the two of them is one based on BDSM …

Don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in ****I just wanted to ask**

_He moved outside and drew Harry closer to him, to secure him for apparating them back to Hogwarts and noticed just how heavily the boy was shaking. Making a lightening-quick decision he pulled the boy closer up his arms and a moment later he landed in his study at Prince __Manor. _

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter eighteen**

**Lady Grey and a glass swan  
**

"Where …"

He was barely able to form a coherent sentence, and honestly, he didn't mind if he sounded like an idiot right now, but Snape seemed to have understood nevertheless.

"Prince Manor." The Potions Master answered.

He didn't say anything else, just bathed in the feeling of calmness and safety the Potions Master's arms radiated, a calmness and safety he never had felt while being with the Dursleys and right now, after being reminded of that awful place that had been his home for years, he couldn't help wishing the man wouldn't stop holding him – ever.

The Potions Master carded his hand through the messy hair of the young male he still held in his arms and only turned his eyes on the small creature that appeared with a soft 'pop' beside him.

"Please, get the master bedroom and the guest chamber closest to the master bedroom ready, Zilly." He softly said, glad that the old house elf had followed them to Prince Manor the moment he had felt the wards on his largest estate invaded. "We will need a small lunch, a light soup will do, and then I need you informing the deputy headmistress that we will be absent from school until Sunday evening."

"Of course, Master Snape." The small creature answered in his squeaky voice but without the fidgeting house elves normally showed, just a worried look on the fragile frame the Potions Master still held in his arms. He had come to like the Master's submissive. The boy had caused his Master to smile and the boy had caused his Master to feel pleased and well, and as he loved his Master deeply, he liked the boy. Not to mention that the boy just was so easy to be liked.

Wordlessly he vanished with another small 'pop' and Snape went to one side of the study where a soft sofa, two armchairs and a coffee table were placed in front of large windows. He sat down, taking the boy with him so Potter was now partly laying on the sofa, partly laying across his lap and he held his submissive's upper body in his arms.

"I'm …"

"Do not even think of apologizing." He simply said. "None of this has been your fault. I on the other hand have to apologize. I should not have had allowed Petunia Dursley opening her dirty mouth to spread her poisonous lies over you again. I should have silenced them both and have them signing the papers immediately. And I do apologize for not having done that."

He still could see the signs of fear on the boy's features and he still could feel the panic radiating from the boy as well, but the startled look Harry regarded him with the moment he looked up at him, well – he at least had managed to distract the brat with his words. And yes, he could understand the boy being startled – after all, who had thought that he _ever_ would apologize to one of his students? But right now Harry was not his student, right now Harry was his future bond, his junior partner, his submissive.

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He had told Harry that they would stay here for the weekend and he had shown the boy to his room shortly after a late lunch. He had given him a dreamless sleep potion and right now Harry was sleeping on the large bed in his room with Zilly watching over the boy, knowing that the house elf would inform him the moment he would stir and then he apparated away with a soft 'pop'.

He soundlessly arrived in the middle of a small forest, and he didn't even hesitate for a split second after his feet had touched the soft ground, quickly starting to walk along the path that led to the clearing a few yards away, his face dark and set. Just a few moments later he heard the soft 'pop' of someone apparating and then the soft crack of a twig on the forest floor, knowing at once that his companion had arrived, and a moment later a black cloaked figure stepped out of the tree line, falling in step with him, without uttering a greeting, just inclining his head in way of a greeting, his pale face as set as was Severus', while a pale hand was holding a dark brown wand at the ready.

Severus summoned one of the branches from the ground, waved his wand over the piece of wood and with a sharp nod he held out the newly made portkey – a moment later they both disappeared with another soft 'pop', appearing only a moment later at the small suburb that was Little Whinging, Surrey, again starting to walk the second their feet touched the ground of Privet Drive, and they only stopped in front of Number four, the house the Potions Master had left just a few hours earlier while carrying a wizarding boy out of the front door after the inhabitants of this very house had damaged the teen yet again.

Taking a final look around the street, just to make sure that no one had noticed the two companions, Severus again waved his wand and the front door of Number four Privet Drive opened without the slightest sound, and they entered the darkened house.

The hallway on the ground floor was quiet and dim, as was the kitchen and the hallway upstairs, and only a soft light coming from the living room spilled into the shadowy area, together with soft sounds of a television that was running, entertaining the family that lived here and both men waved their wands again, Severus casting a silencing spell and a privacy charm while the tall and slender man beside him cast a locking charm on the doors and windows and a hiding spell on the house itself. No one would notice their appearance and no one would know what they had done here.

Then the Potions Master silently pointed to where he knew the living room was and both men made their way towards the unaware muggle family that was their victims which were staring at the television, not knowing that this might be their last moments, what made his work that much easier.

He didn't enjoy torturing muggles generally, contrary to the blond haired man beside him, but he knew he would enjoy torturing _them_, as they had tortured his submissive for years and years, and he knew that his friend would understand his need for revenge. Lucius wouldn't have come otherwise.

**Flashback**

_"Severus!" The blond man that answered the floo called out, a smile actually crossing his normally so cold face, not a sneer that __generally would be the only kind of emotion he displayed in the open, but a real smile. Yes, Lucius Malfoy did like the younger black haired and black dressed wizard deeply, even if he knew that Severus Snape did not really hold true to the Dark Lord. He could live with that. "What a surprise, seeing you here. I do hope nothing has happened to Draco?"_

_"No, Lucius." The Potions Master __answered immediately. "Do not worry. I rather came to seek your company in taking revenge and to ask for your support in this as my friend and brother."_

_"Of course I will be with you, Severus." Lucius immediately said, his face getting serious__ at once. "What happened?"_

_"I just have learned that my submissive has been tortured by his relatives for years and upon demanding guardianship being signed over to me by his aunt and uncle, they have hurt him yet again just hours ago." He explained, knowing that at least a few questions would come the moment he saw the smirk spreading over Lucius' face._

_"Your submissive, my dear Severus." The man slowly said. "And an underage one no less. My, my, Severus, that surely is a surprise. May I ask what kind of relationship it is you started with –" He drifted off, expectantly looking at the Potions Master._

_"Harry Potter." Snape growled, fixing his dark eyes at the blond man whose face fell for a moment, his eyes becoming comically large. "And it is a common educational relationship which I wish expanding into a bond."_

_"So be it then." Lucius answered__ the moment he had his facial muscles back under control. "Expect me at the clearing in the forest of Malfoy. I will be there shortly."_

**End flashback**

Of course he had known that Lucius would not retreat from his word the moment he heard who exactly _was_ his submissive, and he also knew that the boy would be safe from Lucius as well. Lucius Malfoy and he, Severus, they had a bond for themselves, a bond of friendship and brotherhood that was nearly as old as was the bond he soon would share with Potter, and he knew that Lucius would protect his, Severus', submissive with his life if necessary, never mind who it was.

Lucius glanced over at him and he gave a curt nod. The Dursleys had not noticed them yet and a lazy flick of the blond wizard's wand had the television exploded. With a startled cry all three Dursleys jumped, startled, and Vernon Dursley went towards the television, cursing, while the boy settled back down onto the sofa, complaining.

"What the ruddy hell …" The fat whale growled darkly, trying to find out what exactly had caused the explosion.

"You may cease your searching for any cause of the damage, Dursley." Severus smirked while Lucius sneered at the man and the startled face when he turned and finally noticed that two wizards had just managed to invade his house without him noticing. "It was Lucius that had destroyed this – apparatus to gain your attention finally. Honestly – how you muggles manage living without your wards I never will understand."

"You!" Petunia screamed, pointing her finger at him. "You demand guardianship over our nephew just a few hours ago to marry him and now you show up here with another man?"

"How nice of you to finally remember that – _'the boy'_ – is actually your nephew instead of just the freak." Severus sneered at the woman.

"He _is_ a freak, just like you are one, I should have known that someone like you would …" The woman screeched, just to be interrupted by Lucius.

"Silence!" The blond man growled darkly and Petunia Dursley actually stopped speaking. "Your insulting words are disgusting. Severus is here to revenge his junior partner and I am here to countenance him as his brother."

"I know that Snape has no brother!" The woman screeched again and the Potions Master grimaced.

"I see that you still have learned nothing, Petunia." He darkly growled while Lucius casually walked into the Dursleys' living room, looking around curiously. "You are still as ignorant as you have been as a child. There are more ways to get a brother than you muggles know, idiot woman."

"Now you listen, you don't call my wife an idiot woman without …"

"You better be silent, Dursley." Severus said, watching Petunia who took a glass butterfly from Lucius' hands to place it back onto the mantelpiece where he had taken it from for closer inspection. The man definitely looked disappointed and reached for a glass swan instead. "You are in already enough trouble as it is _without_ your stupidity acting up."

"How dare you!" Dursley said while Petunia took the glass swan from Lucius' hands as well, the man glaring darkly at the woman now and snatching the glass swan back. "I'll call the police! You'll be the one being in trouble!"

"I fear not, Dursley!" Lucius said, his cold eyes holding amusement. "We have made sure of course that your muggle devices won't work. No one will hear … _will_ you finally keep your annoying fingers off this blasted swan so I can have a closer look at it, you blasted woman! No one will hear you, as this entire house is under a silencing charm which means that no sound can escape or come in from the outside. You won't be able to flee as all the doors are magically locked and sealed – as are the windows – you have nowhere to go."

Apparently logic was not one of Dursley's most prized talents and the man stormed to his wife in order to help her in taking the glass swan from Lucius' fingers – he was flung back against the wall as soon as he just touched the thing.

"Are you really that stupid Dursley or are you trying to be entertaining. I do admit that it is very amusing, seeing a whale flying through the air while it belongs into water, but I _am_ afraid that we might be on a rather tight schedule. There's no time for entertainment, really."

"You have abused a child that had been entrusted into your hands for fifteen years." Severus finally took a step towards the man that lay at the ground to his feet, sneering down at him. "You have beaten my junior partner so that his body is covered in layers of scars. You have starved my submissive until his growth has been affected in a dangerous way. And you have used my bond as a slave in your household in a way that no human should be used. You have abused my future husband verbally to an extent that he sees no worth in his own life. You even have touched a child in the most despicable ways imaginable, have forced him to touch _you_ even. You have abused an innocent wizarding child to an extent so that he now, fifteen years after he has been entrusted into your care, is broken – and you will pay for what you have done now."

"What … what are you …" The man stammered.

"Silence!" He growled, pointing his wand at the quivering mass in front of him, watching the sweat running down the pale face, watching the mass of fat wobbling with the man's trembling and he sneered in disgust at the sight. "Merlin, what a pity mass! Will you kill the bloody thing or shall I?" He asked in a perfectly serious voice, disgust clearly on his face.

"You disappoint me, my dear Severus." Lucius said, conjuring a cup with a lazy flick of his wand and pouring tea from the pot that stood in the middle of the table, most likely the bland Petunia Dursley had prepared for herself for the evening, taking a sip from the drink as if he were at a tea party instead of a torturing session. "You won't have him off the hook so easily, really, Severus. Delicious, Mrs. Dursley. Lady Grey with Lime and tangerine, I presume?"

Of course he didn't get an answer, the woman too much occupied worrying for her husband.

"Of course not, Lucius." Severus sneered in revulsion. "But this mass of fat is disgusting. Very well, considering all the scarred cuts I have seen littering my submissive's body – the first spell I will cast on you is a nice little one that will be very fitting for you. Whenever you cut anything, even if just a steak or a slice of bread, a deep cut will appear on your back, an unseen blade slowly running through your flesh – agonizingly slowly. Whenever you touch any living being or any living being touches you, you will receive a severe beating from an unseeing cane – let me say, fifty strokes each time?" And with those words he released a short string of Latin words while pointing his wand at the man.

"Yes, that will be very fitting, I think." He then said. "It is your turn, Lucius."

"I didn't finish my tea yet, Severus." Lucius said startled, choking as if he hadn't expected it being his turn so quickly.

"You are such a Sissy." Severus shook his head, walking over to the blond and taking the cup from his hands, placing it at the table.

Lucius looked at him with accusing eyes, but then he gave a long and suffering sigh and stepped towards Vernon Dursley.

"Very well, bloody idiot, taking the tea from my hands. I would have a nice little curse, but I am sure that _Severus_ would like casting this one – regrettably. However, the jinx I will do instead is – nearly as good. You see, I am sure that by the amount of abuse Severus has just mentioned, your nephew had trouble sleeping without nightmares. And therefore – whenever you lay down to sleep, you will suffer nightmares in which it will be your own son you are abusing, starving and beating. It will be your own son you will see lying in front of you, bleeding and suffering, begging you for food, while you refuse, never mind how much you would like giving him something to eat. And nothing and no one will be able to get you out of your nightmares until the next morning."

Again there was a string of Latin while it was Lucius who this time pointed his wand at the man, nearly as if he were bored, before he turned towards Severus.

"It's your turn, Severus." He said. "May I continue drinking my tea now?"

"Of course, you blasted imbecile." The Potions Master lifted his eyebrow at the Malfoy patriarch before he approached his submissive's uncle.

"Well, seeing that you have starved my junior partner to a point where I actually have to _teach_ him eating again – and seeing that you have punished him for taking food – I will cast a nice little charm on you that will do the same to you. Whenever you try eating anything, you will be punished with an unbearable pain that will soar through your body for hours until you have learned that you should not try eating without being allowed to by the charm – what won't be too often."

Once more there was a string of Latin and Severus pointing his wand at the man.

"And now you better hope that Lucius will kill you quickly with his next spell, Dursley." Severus said, actually going down onto one knee in front of the quivering man, his black eyes blazing with unconcealed fury and rage. "Because _my_ next spell will be worse than death ever could be."

A moment later the smell of urine reached his nose and he grimaced in disgust, coldly looking down towards the man's trousers, sneering at the fact that the man had wet his pants at his threat. Yet – he didn't care, guessing that most likely the man had done the same to the boy that was now out of that monster's hands, finally.

"Yes, it is a frightening and embarrassing situation, laying there with wet pants, isn't it?" He asked. "How often did you enjoy the same sight from your nephew? An innocent child?" He didn't wait for an answer, because he knew that if he did, then most likely he would lose it and kill the man right there.

He _did_ have the right to punish the man in the way he had done right now – but not to kill him. And so he stood and walked away, leaving the field to Lucius and hoping that the blond wouldn't do anything stupid either – while he at the same time hoped that the aristocrat would be intelligent enough to do something that would prevent him from casting a third curse at the man that surely would be beyond what actually _was_ allowed.

"Well, well, well." Lucius drawled and Severus couldn't help lifting his eyebrow at the older wizard's antics. "We have quite a situation here, haven't we? I really would like continuing that little session, but I fear that my house elves soon will have dinner ready and my dear wife will be so angry if I'm late. She hates it if dinner gets cold." He said conversationally, taking a step backwards and looking down at the quivering mass that was a muggle that not only had tortured and abused a wizarding child but his best friend's and brother's submissive no less and for a moment he smirked evilly.

"Well, knowing that Severus won't be able to keep himself from casting a spell that slowly and painfully would kill you – I'll have to do something to prevent that. So, I'll send you to Malfoy Manor – in form of a house elf. You see, your dear nephew has freed one of mine a few years ago, and so I actually am in need of one in the kitchens. And seeing that there will be a lot of things to cut for you – combined with the spell Severus has cast upon you – I think that actually is fitting. You'll have a very nice stay at my manor."

He waved his wand, chanting a long spell in Latin and a few seconds later a silvery line – not much different from a rope – appeared from the tip of his wand, wound its way towards Vernon Dursley and around his neck, his wrists and his ankles, binding the muggle to the wizard while he slowly transformed from the human being into that of a house elf. A moment later he was gone.

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"With your husband gone, I believe that you will have to find work of your own, Petunia." Severus turned towards Petunia Dursley, growling darkly at her, ignoring her startled and frightened large eyes, ignoring her hands that had gone to her face, covering her mouth. "You however won't tell anyone what had happened here today, you won't be able to, just like you have made sure that Harry hadn't been able to tell anyone of the abuse you had forced upon him. If people ask questions, you will tell them that your husband has left you as he had enough of your constant sour face." A wave of his wand and Petunia's face going blank for a moment before she nodded – and he knew that the woman wouldn't be able telling anything else than what he had just ordered her, even if she knew that she would humiliate herself with that comment. But well, Harry has been humiliated by them just as much for years!

"You also won't be able eating anything else than a simply meal three times a day, bread, potatoes or rice – and water for drinking. No marmalade, no sausages, no eggs for breakfast, no juice and no milk or hot chocolate – not even this nice little tea you seem to enjoy drinking." He continued, still his wand pointed at Petunia. "Each time you think of having a nice piece of cake, ice cream, or any other treat or sweets, your stomach will cramp and clench with pain for hours. And this is even more than you have granted your nephew, an innocent child." A shot of pale red left Severus' wand, barely visible magic, but it hit the woman that immediately brought her hands over her stomach, as if being in pain.

"Oh, oh." Lucius made, looking over at the woman as if pitying her. "Not even this delicious tea, what a pity, Mrs. Dursley. Do you mind if I take your supply of this bland with me for my wife?" He asked while already lifting his wand and summoning the tea. "It would be a shame if this particular blend of tea would go inedible while Narcissa surely will enjoy it. It is _very_ delicious considering that it is a muggle blend after all, I have to admit that."

Once more Severus lifted his eyebrow at his friend. But then he continued. He wanted to go back to Prince Manor finally, knowing that Lucius had a few questions, and he wanted to look in on his submissive. He had let him alone long enough by now.

"And last but not least, you won't be able sleeping more than two or three hours at a stretch before waking from nightmares, unable to fall asleep again." He finally smirked, remembering how often his submissive woke in the middle of the night, screaming, sobbing, begging him to not hurt him, and how often he was unable to go back to sleep after that. The boy barely ever had been able to sleep longer than two or three hours himself and it only was fitting for what they had done to the boy. "Seeing that Harry has been forced to live under your neglect and abuse for fifteen years, this spell will maintain itself for fifteen years as well. By that time it will decide whether or not you have learned your lesson. If you have, then the spell will lift itself and you will be able to return to a normal and healthy life – if not, well, I do not really thing that I need to explain myself again."

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Severus opened Harry's door softly and quickly checked the boy over. He was sound asleep still, wrapped up tightly in his blankets and with his knees drawn up close to his chest. He looked like a small child whose posture unconsciously screamed _"I'm vulnerable, help me!"_ and for a moment he had to close his eyes to keep himself from touching the boy's face, from sitting down into the armchair beside the bed and watching his brat for the remainder of the day – and night if he slept for so long with the dreamless sleep potion he had provided him earlier that day before he had left for Number four Privet Drive.

He knew that he would have to talk with the brat, and soon, but not now. Right now he was glad that the boy – for once – was sleeping for a bit longer than a few hours and right now he had Lucius sitting in his parlour and waiting for answers.

Of course Lucius had not said anything the moment he had asked him to be patient and to help himself for a glass of his whiskey while he would have a look into his brat's room, the blond only smirking at him knowingly, but he wanted this – _interrogation_ – over with as soon and as quickly as possible. And so he quietly left the room, closed the door again and went back to his parlour to face his long year friend for a questioning he would like to avoid at all if it were possible.

"So, tell me, dear Severus." Lucius smirked, reaching him a tumbler he had poured him. "How did you end up with – Harry Potter – being your submissive?"

"Surely you do not expect me telling you private details, Lucius." He growled. "It however simply started with – my duty as a teacher and a head of house."

"In other words – you gave him … _the talk_." Lucius Malfoy smirked at him, his blasted grey-blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Actually – " He started before he took a deep breath. "Yes." He then grunted out, glaring at his friend.

"And after that you ended up … well …"

"Actually – no." The Potions Master now growled. "Nothing happened between the boy and me so far."

"How has the bond then started forming?" Lucius asked, confused.

"We are not bonded yet." Severus shook his head, frowning at the older wizard, causing Lucius to narrow his eyes at him.

"Well, you might not have done so consciously in this case." Lucius slowly said, his eyes narrowed at him. "But there _is_ a bond forming. I can feel it, Severus. When was it that you last have looked into a mirror, my dear friend? You look happy. You look less harsh even. There is a bond forming between the boy and you and I wonder how it happened."

"I do not know this." Severus said, sighing. "I have given the pendant to him that makes my claim over him as my submissive rightfully and I have noticed that it reacted quicker than it should have – at least in some areas – but I do not know how this happened."

"However it _did_ happen, I still wonder how it is that you have chosen this particular boy as your submissive." Lucius mused while sipping on his drink. "It is Harry Potter, son to James Potter of all people and the history between the two of you is legendary even beyond the masonry of Hogwarts."

"That boy is nothing of what I have seen in him for the past years." Severus Snape said. "I have seen a spoilt brat in him, a bully and a copy of James Potter. But while he physically may look like James Potter, he mentally has much of Lily's qualities. And seeing that he has been neglected and abused – it even is _clear_ that he only has been wearing a mask, and one that definitely has been worth of a Slytherin for years."

"Hmm." Lucius made. "So – how far has your relationship gone now?"

"I am sure that you will realize – this information is a private one." Severus growled. "That brat is mine and that is all you need to know."

"Indeed." Lucius smirked at him. "I just hoped."

"You hoped wrongly. I won't share details."

"One can hope." The aristocrat chuckled. "Where would we be without our hopes after all?"

"In this case – you hope in vain!" Severus growled darkly while taking a sip of the whiskey himself. "I take it you will keep Dursley as your house elf?" He then asked, hoping that he could get the older wizard off the subject.

"Of course I will, my dear Severus." He smirked. "And I will order my house elves having him doing him all the work a knife will be required for. He will have more to cut than he will be able to handle – seeing that your spell will have him bleeding with each cut he does."

"Just make sure that he won't die, Lucius." The Potions Master hissed angrily at the reminder of the past few weeks he had his brat in his company. "I am not finished with him completely yet."

"What do you have in your mind, Severus?" Lucius asked, his eyes narrowed at the dark wizard.

"Something, which requires me already being bonded with my submissive." He answered, a strange gleam in his dark eyes that nearly verged on sadism – but not the kind of sadism that would be contained in BDSM – it was real sadism and the older wizard immediately knew that the Potions Master was planning something really cruel.

"You won't kill him, Severus, will you?" He asked, worried for a moment.

"Of course I won't." Snape growled back. "I cannot afford ending up in Azkaban, my submissive does need me after all. But he _has_ touched my junior partner and he _has_ forced the boy touching him – and he will pay for this deeply."

"I take it that – this relationship you have is not going so well?" Lucius asked, his face darkening at the knowledge what Dursley had done to his friend's submissive.

"Actually – no." Snape sighed. "Just let me say – the brat is not only shy, he is scared of me and such is not what should be between the partners in an emancipated relationship – never mind which form it consists."

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Well, the smirk on Lucius' face definitely had been worth a Malfoy, but he had ignored it and soon after the older Wizard had left, after inviting him and Harry for dinner as soon as possible and he knew that Harry would not like that, would not trust Lucius as easily as he had trusted him, Severus. There would be problems and he knew it – and he had told Lucius the same.

The blond man only had nodded seriously and then had told him that he would accept it, and that he would be patient.

Well, yes. That was Lucius all over. A Death Eater, definitely, a follower of the Dark Lord, definitely yes – but loyal to his friends and very protective and accepting when it came to him, Severus, and anything that had to do with him.

Sighing he took a deep breath when he felt his submissive slowly waking up, knowing that waking Potter up before he would be fully awake would most likely mean hysterics – but at the same time it was what he was hoping for. a crying Potter who didn't make any sense but for once at least was unable to suppress his emotions would be easier to deal with then the usual alert one, at least in this particular situation.

And so – entering the bedroom the boy lay in, he for another moment watched his brat, the pale face that for once looked calm and peaceful, that wasn't guarded for once and sitting down onto the edge of the bed he reached out his hand and moved his fingertips lightly over the relaxed face, brushing stray strands of the unruly black hair our of the smooth skin of the youth. A skin so smooth he for a moment wanted nothing else than bending down and kissing those precious small face, but he knew – Harry most likely would be horrified and offended if he overstepped the boundaries too quickly.

He remembered the way Potter had behaved earlier, with fearful eyes as they stared up at Severus - so very different from other boys his age. So – no, he surely would not wake his brat with a kiss, not now at least. They had time for such and he would not startle the brat out of his pants right now.

"Harry?" Snape asked, his voice was a soft whisper, his hand gently caressing his brat's face, but the boy, despite his soft voice, was awake immediately, opening his eyes and flinching away when the elegant fingers of the Potions Master brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"Relax, Harry." Snape whispered, not taking his hand back from the boy's face. "It is just me, Severus."

The teen did, relaxing, blinked at him and for a moment he buried deeper into the warmth that the older wizard offered but then he seemed to remember where he was and what had happened just hours before and a moment later he was trying to push himself away.

Not ready to make it easy for his brat Severus gently pulled him closer, not allowing his brat to flee him and with his arms wrapped around the teen's shoulders he effectively kept the brat pinned to his chest and after an – indeed very short struggle – the boy succumbed to the overpowering force of the Potions Master's arms holding him.

"Don't … don't touch me … I'm a freak and …" He chocked out, ashamed, again trying to pull away from the comforting dark presence.

"Stop!" Snape seriously said, his tone nearly sharp but calm. He had known that the boy surely had not changed the view of himself within the short time they had started their relationship and he had told him that he was not useless or stupid nor ugly, but those two small comments told him more even – what had been the reason as to why he had woken him despite the knowledge that it would mean hysterics.

The boy not only thought so low of himself due to the poison his relatives had spewed over him, but he actually _believed_ that he was a freak, despite the knowledge that he was a wizard, despite the knowledge that a wizarding child at one point or another displayed accidental magic. But again – the boy allowed every wizarding child to have those accidental magic, but not himself – and he, Snape, _he_ had said the boy was lazy and irresponsible, taking advantage of his status as The Boy Who Lived! How absolutely foolish he had been, how absolutely idiotic and foolish he had been!

That boy demanded of himself more than he ever would of anyone else, he demanded of himself so much – it wasn't even performable.

The other comment – 'don't touch me' – it was the one that told him just as much about his brat, namely that he not only was scared of being touched or he wouldn't have mentioned it, not towards him, not even upon waking up. It wasn't the first time that Harry woke in his presence and it wasn't the first time that Harry was in a situation with him that wasn't easy for the boy. No. He rather was sure that Harry thought – as he was a _'freak'_ no one could touch him without tainting himself, no one would even _dare_ touching him because they feared they would be tainted by his _'freakishness'_.

"Stop!" He repeated a bit calmer. "Calm down, Harry. You are not a freak but a normal wizarding teenager and there is no need to fear rejection or me abandoning you.

Harry did his best and he closed his eyes to do as he was told, his whole body was rigid but then a large, warm hand came to lie down upon his back while Snape softly instructed. "Just breathe in and out…"

Again he did his best to do what the older wizard told him and slowly he could feel his body relaxing, the warm hand that lay on his back gently running over his shoulder blades. "Do you not truly know me at all?" The Potions Master's voice soothed him even further and he could hear the sadness in the man's voice. "Do you really think that you could make me wanting to bond with you if I did not truly want this? Do you really think that I would abandon you now? That I would reject you now? And that I would do so just because of those abominable human beings who are your relatives? You foolish Gryffindor! I gave you the gift, didn't I?"

He hitched a breath the moment the older wizard touched the pendant that rested against his throat, a bolt of magic running through his entire body and he nearly jumped, before the magic settled somewhere in his lower regions, leaving him in a mixture of remaining desperation and arousal, and without thinking he turned in the man's arms and lifted his face to Snape's, placing a short kiss at the other man's lips.

Snape was dumbfound for a moment, blinking at the boy stupidly before he took the younger wizard's face between both his hands, deepening the kiss his brat had dared, pleased over the fact that his junior partner had dared initiating a kiss by himself.

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"I'm sorry." Harry said when they both moved apart, looking up at him sheepishly.

"Whatever for?" He asked, lowering his head to one side a bit and looking at the boy questioningly.

"For going off like I have done earlier." Came the boy's small and unsure answer.

"This is your home, Harry." The Potions Master seriously said. "This is where you can – 'go off' – as you so eloquently put it."

"My home?" Harry actually asked, his eyes going large and he knew exactly why the blasted imp was so startled. He never had really had a home and the one he had been forced to call just that, it had been a home where he had not been welcomed in.

"Of course, you foolish brat!" He growled darkly, even if he could tell that he didn't have his heart in the growl. "This is your home, Harry. You are my junior partner, my submissive, and this is your home now. Here is, where you can go off, where you can be yourself and where you can be weak – as I always will be here to catch you, to hold you, and to keep you safe."

Harry took a deep breath and then nodded, unaware of the long fingers that trailed over his shoulder before coming to rest on his neck.

Severus curled his long fingers around the neck of his younger male, running his thumb over the smooth flesh and he could feel that the brat relaxed even further under his touch and he found that he couldn't help but smile – clearly the boy was growing attached to him … and started to trust him, proof that the universe had a rather twisted sense of humor.

Feeling relieved Harry curled up into the warmth that Snape offered and when he felt the professor relax, he drifted off to sleep while the Potions Master himself spent a sleepless night sitting in the armchair beside the boy's bed, watching him, watching the pale but for once peaceful face, watching the soft rise and falling of the boy's chest with each breath he took while memories, buried deeply, were resurfacing, mixed together with images of his young brat, of his submissive, of Harry.

Harry as an eleven-year-old child, just attending his first potions class ever, being verbally attacked by him, Snape ... Harry, his submissive, being scared and unsure and so shy he wondered how the brat ever could overcome his shyness. Harry speaking parseltongue for the first time, in his second year, after he, Snape, again, had wronged the boy in telling Draco to cast the serpensortia ... Harry, his junior, standing in front of him, naked, his legs spread wide and his hands at his sides trembling with a mixture of fear and arousal.

Severus felt sick. Somehow, having known – and despised – Harry as a child made him feel worse.

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**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_After the war – one of my favourite songs by Maiden … just came to my mind. No, the next chapter won't be a songfic, as all the lyrics that are or will be in my stories are done by me, the next chapter could be described as after the war – or the Dursleys …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter … thank you


	19. a spell gone wrong

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

Story contains adult stuff. Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things …

don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in ****I just wanted to ask**

_Harry as an eleven-year-old child, just attending his first potions class ever, being verbally attacked by him, Snape … Harry, his submissive, being scared and unsure and so shy he wondered how the brat ever could overcome his shyness. Harry speaking parseltongue for the first time, in his second year, after he, Snape, again, had wronged the boy in telling Draco to cast the serpensortia … Harry, his junior, standing in front of him, naked, his legs spread wide and his hands at his sides trembling with a mixture of fear and arousal._

_Severus felt sick. Somehow, having known – and despised – Harry as a child made him feel worse._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter nineteen**

**A spell gone wrong  
**

It was slowly that Harry woke and the first thing he noticed was the comfortable heavy weight of an arm dropped over his shoulders and long, thin fingers entangled in his hair. His head was resting on a strangely warm pillow while his own arm seemed to be laying on an equally warm but soft pillow. The second thing he noticed was – his pillow was softly moving up and down, strangely comforting him and opening his eyes and looking blearily at the pillow he was laying against, he noticed that it actually wasn't a pillow but Snape's chest his head was using as a pillow and Snape's stomach his arm was laying over.

Slowly tilting his head a bit he took a closer look at his senior partner – it seemed early in the morning and the Professor had not woken yet. He wasn't sure how he had gotten into this position but somehow during the night, it seemed, he must have snuggled close to the man – or the man had pulled him close and then draped his arm across his, Harry's shoulder.

Taking a deep breath he looked closer, and now, as they were not in a sexual situation that had him aroused and unable to concentrate onto anything, he noticed a few scars that he never before had paid attention to and he softly traced his fingertips over one that ran along the warm skin his hand had been resting on for some time now. He stiffened slightly when the light touch seemed to disturb his pillow, the older man starting to wake and he could feel the fingers moving out of his hair, could feel the older wizard's body arching slightly when he stretched and he softly sighed at the movement from his pillow.

Knowing however that the Potions Master _surely_ would _not_ be too pleased over being used as a pillow he started moving away from the older wizard – what caught the man's attention however and Snape, still half asleep, only barely realized that a warm but bony something was laying atop of his chest and he lazily tightened the grip he seemed to have at the warm something. He growled unhappily for a moment at the idea of having to wake up fully, seeing that it was a fine Sunday morning – and an early Sunday morning no less as it seemed, but vaguely he wondered why the pillow he was hugging – and he was sure that it could be nothing else than just that – was so bony. In other words – he had no other change than waking up and looking at the something if he wished to know what _exactly_ he was hugging there, and looking down he realized that – it wasn't a pillow at all but the smaller body of his submissive that was laying halfway atop his chest and for a moment he wondered how exactly they had gotten into this particular position. Last he knew – he head been sitting in the armchair beside the brat's bed, watching him for most of the night.

Another moment later he could feel worry and disappointment coming from the boy when he moved away, accompanied by fear and he only could guess that it was fear over him, Snape, being angry with the brat for using him as a pillow and taking a deep breath he shook his head and tightened the hold he had on the boy, keeping him from moving away, enjoying the feeling of Harry's smaller body pressed against his side.

"Go back to sleep, brat." He growled, his voice sleepy while he closed his own eyes. "It is way too early for being awake on a Sunday morning."

And the boy did, for once obeying his orders.

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When Harry woke next he found himself in a similar position to the one he had been in that morning, his head on Snape's stomach and his arm draped over the man's legs – only this time the older wizard was leaning against the backrest of the bed, reading a book while he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I take it the dreamless sleep has been helping, brat." The Potions Master said after a moment, closing the book and leaning over to place it at the nightstand beside the boy's bed. "Seeing that you have been sleeping through the night – and for once without having one of your nightmares."

"Did you … did you mean what you said yesterday?" The boy asked and he lifted an eyebrow at the brat. He had said a lot of things the day before. "Well, about me and being at home here, I mean." Harry then clarified his question and with a sigh he took the boy at his shoulders and sat him up so that he could look at the brat more comfortably.

"Yes, I of course did mean what I have said yesterday." He then confirmed. "You are my junior partner, Harry. You soon will be my bond, my husband, Harry. Of course this will be your home. I am not your teacher here either, here I am your husband and of course you will life here with me – aside from our quarters at Hogwarts which are as much your home as is this manor here. But while you won't be able calling our quarter at Hogwarts truly your own – this manor is. And now get your lazy body off me so I can – finally – use the toilet."

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He had taken a quick shower after Snape had come out of the bathroom, feeling strangely free, well and confident, a feeling he hadn't felt in a very long time, he hadn't felt _ever_, actually, and for a moment he closed his eyes before he took the pair of black Jeans and slipped into them, not minding the bare feet that came out of the trousers' legs, wondering if Snape had something akin to a floor heating in his bathroom as he wasn't freezing despite the missing socks.

He slipped into a loose but still fitting black shirt, turning to look for a comb but then he nearly froze, startled, when he noticed Snape standing in the doorframe, leaning with his shoulder against the wooden frame, watching him and he wondered for how long the man had been watching him.

Leaning at the doorframe to the bathroom which the boy had not closed, Snape watched the teen dressing himself into a pair of Jeans, feeling that the boy was well at the moment, that he was satisfied with the situation.

Of course he knew exactly that with sixteen, Harry was now at the age where teenagers turned rebellious and even though he doubted Harry even knew the _meaning_ of the word, he would still do some things which could be considered rebellious. He knew that the boy would push against the boundaries surrounding their relationship, testing the limits and he also knew that he, Snape, would have to be extra patient then if he didn't want startling the brat away. He knew that Harry himself might not realize at that time what exactly he was doing, but he simply knew that the insecure little boy that was lurking deep within his submissive would want to test the waters, would need to see how much he could push him, Snape, before what he – _'knew'_ – deep down would actually happen.

Until he had learned that it would not happen, that he, Snape, never would push the boy away, that he never would abandon him, that he would simply deal with the situation until Harry had learned.

Folding his arms in front of his chest and narrowing his eyes at the teen, he watched him slipping a T-shirt over his head, one of those he, Snape, had chosen for the boy and again he scowled to himself at the repeated reminder of how badly Harry not only had been abused but neglected as well, knowing that – seeing how starved the brat was – he easily could have died at the hands of his relatives at one point or another, knowing that it was more plain old dumb luck than anything else that the boy had survived.

He knew that abused children, especially those as heavily abused as Harry was, especially those as heavily neglected as Harry was, would always, no matter the reassurances of loved ones expect to be pushed away after a time and even if he right now might believe him consciously – he knew that there would come a time where the boy would openly doubt everything he, Snape, did, everything he told him and everything he showed him, and the Potions Master dreaded that time like nothing else he so far had dreaded in his life – because he knew that their relationship would depend on his, Snape's reactions only then and even the smallest mistake he made could end and destroy it all, maybe forever.

The moment the brat turned and looked up at him, Potter looked startled and another moment later he could see the old unsureness and fear in the green eyes that watched him as if he wanted to ask – "and how long will it last?" – and this particular look was strangely tugging at the Potions Master's heart strings, the fears which still lurked in the depths of those brilliant green eyes, unseen to anyone and everyone but Severus Snape, that just told him how much Petunia and Vernon Dursley had hurt his little submissive over the years.

And especially yesterday, he couldn't help thinking while he slowly and quietly walked over to his young junior who soon would be his husband.

Well, it would bother anyone, he thought with remorse. He had been so focussed upon getting the signature that he had allowed this blasted woman to spew her poison into the boy's mind, and he should have known that his submissive would pay close attention to the words Petunia had spoken. And that he would pay for it afterwards, never mind how much he was able to hide his emotional pain – and especially the guilt the boy had been burdened with by his relatives.

Glancing down at the boy he slowly reached out with one hand, allowing it to hover uncertainly over the younger male and wondering if right now the touch would be allowed and welcomed, and only then he wrapped his arms around the boy when no move against his silent question came. He could feel the boy tensing in his arms before he relaxed minutely and sensing his brat being open like a book the older wizard looked down, directly into Harry's eyes and he reached out with his own mind, carefully and gently, not lashing out violently like he had done back in Harry's fifth year.

Harry looked up at Snape, startled for a moment when he could feel a gentle touch washing over his mind, soothing and caressing him, but then he relaxed further, nearly giving a sigh away when he could feel the hurt and anger at the Dursleys, and the guilt and sorrow at his parents' and Cedric's and Sirius' deaths ease.

He instinctively knew that the pain and guilt were still there, that it always would be there, but it was no longer aching and tearing him apart and Harry looked with wide eyes at Snape.

"What did you do?" The boy asked and for a moment Severus narrowed his eyes at the teen. It wasn't the first time that he invaded the boy's mind after all and even if it was a gentle caress right now, the boy should have known the meaning of it, should have known that it was legillimens he had used and he didn't understand Harry's question. But a moment later the brat clarified. "My head doesn't hurt any more!"

"What do you mean, your head does not hurt anymore?" He then asked, still not understanding. He had known that the brat did suffer from headaches sometimes and he also had known that those headaches were rather severe at some points, but the boy sounded as if he had those headaches all the time.

"Well, ever since Voldemort has taken my blood to resurrect himself, my head always has been hurting." Harry then explained, his voice soft and unsure again and the Potions Master narrowed his eyes at his brat again. "And I always could feel the crucio being cast as if it was cast upon me, just not quite as strong as when he had cast it on me in the graveyard. And now it's gone."

Severus looked down at the boy startled and suddenly he felt very upset. Of course Albus had told him that the boy was connected to the Dark Lord through his scar somehow, but absolutely _never_ had he dreamt that they were that deeply connected and he shuddered at the thought of how often and how powerful the Dark Lord liked to use that particular curse and the unendurable pain the boy spoke about so matter of factly.

The last attack from a headache he had wittnessed, a few days ago, he suddenly wondered if it only had been a headache or if maybe it had been those _– shadows_, for the lack of a better term – from the crucio as well?

"Close your eyes." He softly said and not even waiting for the teen to obey he ran one hand over the boy's face, over his eyes, closing them in the process before he gently ran his fingertips over the pale forehead, over the scar that lingered there, a reminder of the tragedy that had happened so many years ago and that had robbed the boy of his parents, that had caused the boy being placed with abusive relatives, that had caused Lily's death.

Another moment later he could hear a small gasp coming from the teen who reopened his eyes, looking up at him startled.

"I have placed a mind shield within your mind to contain the Dark Lord until we can permanently sever the connection." He then explained, his voice more gentle than he himself had planned. "I have just learned that – I have to apologize, Harry. You cannot occlude your mind against someone who is already inside of it." He softly explained. "You cannot block someone's presence if it is already living within for so many years, you can no more completely block it than you could block your own thoughts from yourself and I have to apologize for calling you lazy and incapable."

Instead of looking relieved however, Harry looked panicked at his words, more than panicked actually and the moment the boy looked up at him Severus had to fight hard with himself to keep his face emotionless when he noticed the boy's eyes were almost dead, the little life in them dulled and hidden behind a sea of uncertainty, despair and helplessness, of fear that he would have to deal with the entire mountain that lay before him, that he wasn't even able to overlook, that he would have to deal with it all alone. The boy's next words however shocked him more than he dared admitting.

"But … but does this mean … I don't want to be the next dark lord … I don't want to be like him … I don't …"

"Hush, brat." He quickly whispered, tightening the grip he had on his submissive and pulling the boy's head against his chest. "There is no way you will be like this bastard. You are lacking the thirst of power at any cost, the delight in other's suffering and the blackness of the soul. Not only is it not your nature but I believe that you couldn't even able to become dark, even if you wanted to."

Snape's words clutched at his heart and he felt the tears begin to well up.

'_Not now.'_ Harry thought, desperately. _'Please not now.'_ And he did all he could to keep them from falling, but against all of his pleas, they yet fell down and once the tears began – there was nothing to stop them. Harry simply was overtaken by all of his pains and fears as the tears turned into hysterical sobs.

Merlin, his heart ached for his young brat! How had this particular boy managed carrying all this guilt and pain and fear with him for such a long time? He had seemed so carefree most of the time when he had been sitting at the Gryffindor table throughout the past five years, joking with his friends, smiling easily and not at all affected by the grief that surely always had weighted him down.

Steering the boy out of the bathroom and through the hallway he led him into the large parlour and over to the couch, sat down onto the soft furniture before pulling Harry into his lap where they sat in silence for long minutes while the Potions Master was just rubbing soothing circles on Harry's back, while the boy tried his best to regain control over himself, and settling back against the backrest without loosening his arms around his submissive he couldn't help thinking that this was how it should be, that this was where the boy belonged to, into his arms where he always could protect him, from both himself and others as well. If his brat needed to be held at the moment, if he needed this kind of comfort and support, then he would do so, then he would give it to him, because there was nothing that could prevent him from giving what he needed, always.

Feeling his eyes growing heavy Harry snuggled closer to the older wizard who so willingly was ready to hold him, and just before he fell asleep he could have sworn he felt something brush against his forehead, a soft and cool stroke over his skin that felt too hot and once again he could make out a voice that whispered a promise of love and protection.

Green eyes drifted close as Potter murmured a quiet "thank you", so softly that Severus was sure he had misunderstood while he at the same time immediately knew that he had heard – and understood – the boy's words correctly, and then, even if it was not lunchtime yet, his young submissive that was exhausted by yet another emotional strain started drifting off into a light sleep the moment he had cried himself out, while laying with his head in Snape's lap comfortably, again using him as a pillow.

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Harry woke a while later and he blurrily focused his eyes on Snape who was sitting there, still holding him and he remembered the strong and regular heartbeat he had heard earlier, remembered the soft movement of someone breathing calmly and regularly and he also remembered feeling safe at being held by a warm, caring and living being.

Never before had he been treated like this and he still couldn't really understand why Snape did. Never before had he been given reason to think that his body was anything else than disgusting and without any value. He always had been told that he was something to be ashamed of and he always had been made to feel that he was something to be hidden away from the eyes of others, that anyone only could be revolted by just looking at him.

But now, now Snape, Snape of all people was making him feeling like he was being worshiped, like being loved, and cared for, every single one of his touches speaking of love and care. The older wizard not only didn't seem disgusted by him, but he also seemed to be very fond of him too, seemed to like him, to like what he saw. He didn't make him feeling bad, he made him feeling wonderful and loved and as if he was worthy of being touched and looked at, valued like a sacred artefact would be valued – and he didn't understand it.

Of course he was still ashamed of his own body, of how thin and scarred he was and of how ugly – even if Snape didn't see it – and of course he also was still scared when the older wizard touched him, but the shame and the fear wasn't so deep anymore, it wasn't so deep as it used to be when he'd been touched by someone else or when he touched himself. It simply was a tiny miracle.

He didn't know how long he had been curled up in a ball on the sofa, already awake and thinking, simply bathing in the knowledge of being loved and cared for, for once in his life, when he felt a strong hand settling on his shoulder, getting him out of his thoughts and again he concentrated onto that touch, again recognizing the knowledge – there was someone who didn't think him being too dirty to being touched, there was someone who didn't think he was worthless.

Severus looked down at Harry where he lay with his head in his lap, nearly able to hear the boy's thoughts in his own head and he frowned, keeping his hand on the boy's shoulder. He didn't understand why a simple touch could be so valued by the brat, but Merlin, if the boy did value a touch from him that much, then be it, then he would give him what the brat longed for so desperately. Not to mention that he simply _liked_ touching the boy who – for once – did not shy away when being touched by him while so many others looked upon him in clear disgust.

"Thank you, Severus." He heard the boy's voice a moment later and lifting his eyebrow at his brat he looked down again, into those startling green eyes that so often threatened to rob his breath lately.

"Whatever for, Harry?" He asked.

'_F__or loving me.'_ He heard Harry's voice in his head and for a moment he wondered how it was that he could hear the boy's thoughts so clearly today. He knew that he had ended the connection when he had retreated from the boy's mind earlier and he also knew that neither the bond they were forming nor the pendant Harry was wearing allowed him to hear his submissive's thoughts. So his only explanation was that the teen had an overly open mind right now.

Bloody Gryffindor! Wearing his emotions on his sleeve!

"For being there for me." Harry said and he frowned. Why had the brat said something different than what he was thinking?

"I always will be." He said, knowing that it was the truth. He always would be there, never mind what.

'_No you won't.'_ He again could hear the boy's thoughts and he nearly sight. Of course the brat would think so._ 'Not if you knew.'_ And now his frown deepened while he himself stiffened for a moment. What was it that was so bad that Harry thought he would abandon him if he knew about it so that he had to keep it secret from him?

"You do not have to thank me for doing something that benefits the both of us." He growled darkly while his mind ran a mile per minute and suddenly he could feel that there indeed was a shadow hanging over the teen. "I cannot loose you Harry, especially if it is to yourself. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You should be thanking yourself."

Slightly bending down to press his lips against Harry's Severus gently nibbled on the boy's lower lip with an almost practiced ease until Harry parted them with a sigh.

One of the brat's hands came up and touched his cheek when Harry kissed back, slowly moving his lips as he tried to set a faster pace than he and the older wizard growled low in his throat before bringing the smaller body in an upright position beside him on the sofa.

"Go, Mr. Potter." He growled out. "Before I change my mind and decide to keep you here as _my_ pillow for a change."

"And what if …" The boy chocked out the moment he was sitting there, looking lost for all he could tell. "What if I … what if I don't want to go?"

_'Not if you knew.'_ He remembered and suddenly he knew that he would do everything to help the brat, suddenly he couldn't help but hope that everything would turn out for the best so that in the end he one day would be able taking Harry to his bed and do all the wicked things to him he had been imagining.

"Then Zilly will be very angry with the both of us for not arriving at lunch, seeing as it is already late."

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He still didn't really understand why Snape had been so strange, earlier today, so – nearly melancholy. Never before had he seen the man like this. Well, yes – he knew by now that Snape was not unnecessarily Snape, or that Snape and Snape was not a constant, something along those lines, but that didn't automatically mean that – oh, for Merlin's pants! He simply didn't know!

How was he to know what kind of Snape Snape had been this afternoon when he was just about to learn all the different sides and nuances this man owned? It was not only impossible it also would give him headaches. So he better didn't try even!

And yet – he would like to know. He would like to know why he had been so kind to him, so strangely kind. Was it because he had looked so pitiful? He was sure that – at least to some point – Snape had been like this because of the connection they shared, but somehow he would like to believe that it had been an act of kindness instead of obligations towards the bond, that Snape was kind to him because of him, Harry, and not because of the bond.

It had been a side on Snape he – even throughout the past weeks – had rarely seen on the man and he hoped that he would be the only person to ever see this side, hoped that he would learn to know more of them even, Snape, holding him so protectively and so patiently while he, Harry, made a fool of himself and then the older man not even taunting him for it.

But wasn't it strange that he wasn't holding Snape too? Why was it always the old man, always holding him? Kissing him? Pushing him around? Why was it Snape who was looking after him and Harry not after Snape too? Wasn't it unfair somehow? Was a relationship not working in two ways? But whenever he tried to do something like trying to kiss the man back, to deepen a kiss or something like that, or to touch Snape in any inappropriate way – then Snape growled at him and drew back, lifting his eyebrow at him or locking down at him in this strange way that told him – he had done something wrong.

Not that he minded. For one – he knew that he was the submissive and that Snape was the dominant, and therefore he knew that he wasn't to be so pushy. And second – well, he had learned that Snape never really punished him for doing something wrong. He _did_, in a strange way. He at least called it a punishment, but Merlin! They weren't punishments! Of course he was all embarrassed about it and of course it was unpleasant somehow, sometimes he didn't even know if it was really painful or not. Well, yes – it definitely _was_ painful, somehow at least, but the moment Snape stopped he found that – no, he hadn't reached his limits and he wished that the older man hadn't stopped – and he began to understand what the older wizard had meant with his words. "Your safeword, don't ever use it lightly, but don't ever hesitate to use it if you need it."

Maybe he _did_ use it too lightly?

But he was so scared sometimes. He was scared that the man one day wouldn't listen to it, he was scared what would happen if he didn't use it and he was scared of …

"What do you think, Mr. Potter, would be an appropriate time to use one's safeword?" Snape's dark and velvet voice drawled from beside him.

Looking over at the older wizard Harry blinked stupidly for a moment. It wasn't the first time today that he thought Snape could read his thoughts, after all.

Well, he could tell that something _was_ different tonight while he was sitting beside the man at the dining table and he automatically tried to recall every etiquette technique he had observed at the Dursleys' household throughout the years. Not that they had taught him _any_ table manners, seeing that he never had been allowed sitting with them at their table in the first place, but he had been standing in the kitchen, preparing pudding while they ate or serving them and so of course he had seen some of their behaviors. The problem was – seeing that Dudley had never had any manners to begin with and seeing that most people had behaved differently when he had started Hogwarts, he soon had learned that what the Dursleys called 'manners' weren't actually manners at all when it came to social standards. So he soon had started watching his classmates, watching the older students, the other tables and even the head table and soon he had learned different kind of etiquette techniques.

"Uhm …" He said, feeling his cheeks coloring. When _was_ an appropriate time to use his safeword?

Looking over at the man again he felt a suspicion that Snape was up to something. Not that this was something new, really, that man _always_ was up to something lately, but tonight he could feel a faint tension lingering in the air and he watched the man taking another sip of his wine, watching his throat contracting as he swallowed, his lips coming together to savor the last drops of the wine that lingered there, the older wizard's dark eyes catching the green eyes and he easily could recognize the cunning glint in them.

That particular man had on frequent occasions called him thick-headed, but right now he surely was not as thick-headed as to miss the other man having something on his mind – something that, yet again, caused his blood to leave his brain and drop into lower regions of his body.

"What a delicious blush, Mr. Potter." Snape drawled, lifting his eyebrow at the brat, knowing exactly what not only his words but his voice as well as his lifted eyebrow did to the younger wizard. He had long ago learned how to get his submissive aroused after all and he knew that it was not only his choice of words but his voice and facial expressions as well – what had become a bit of a problem during potions, he had to admit that, but seeing that he had an extra eye on his brat now, he was able to make sure that he didn't explode his cauldron because he was horny and unable of thinking straight.

"Uhm … well …" Came from Potter and the Potions Master allowed himself a long and suffering sigh.

"Hmm – very eloquent, Mr. Potter, but seeing that you currently seem to have more blood in your lower regions than in your brain, I guess it was to be expected." He drawled with a smirk when he noticed the brat squirming in his seat. "You however have not answered my previous questions. What do you think would be an appropriate time for using a safeword? Or what exact problem do you have with yours and the time you chose using it?"

"Well … I don't know … I don't know what would be an appropriate time." The boy gasped out, swallowing heavily and he could see the boy's Adams apple moving nervously.

"Maybe you could tell me what problem you _seem_ to have?" He then seriously asked. It was important that they spoke about it if it was a problem to his young submissive.

"Well … I'm not sure." The boy said, again squirming in his seat and his normally so pale face had clear pink spots coloring his cheeks while the green eyes darted from his face to the floor and then back to his face. "You … you said, I shouldn't use it lightly, but … well, you also said I should use it when I need it. But I'm not sure … I mean … Merlin!"

"I am sure that Merlin would not be too pleased being drawn into this particular conversation." He drawled, enjoying the boy's desperation.

"It's just … you said I should use it when I need it, but … well, I do need it when I use it, at least that's what I think … but a moment later … I mean, well … the moment you stop … I'm not so sure anymore that I really would have needed it. I mean it feels as if … as if I rather would like … sir, please!"

"No Harry." He said, serious for once and keeping his enjoyment at the brat's desperation under control – at least somewhat. "No. You have to learn voicing what you need to say. So do it, say it."

"You just … you just want seeing me like this." Potter said and he actually chuckled at the desperate attempt.

"Seeing you like what, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

"Well, seeing me … squirming and … and so desperate." The boy more stammered out than said.

"Hmm, yes." He inclined his head. "Yes, I have to admit that I do enjoy seeing you squirming on this seat of yours and seeing you so – desperate. But that is not the sole reason. You have to learn voicing your thoughts – or what you wish saying." He then repeated. "So – do it!"

Groaning the boy bent forwards and hid his face in his hands before sitting up again and taking a deep breath.

"Well … I just use the safeword and then I think that I have used it too lightly. That I … well, rather would have you continuing with … well, you know … with what you've done before, I mean."

"Yes, I can see your dilemma." Snape calmly said. "The problem is – there is no solution to it. It is up to you when you use your safeword and up to you alone. You will have to learn listening to your own body, Harry, to what you are feeling, and with time you will find a way to go beyond your own limits. And limits they are only. Your limits are very low at the present time, and understandable so, seeing that you are not only very young but new to this kind of relationship you have with your far older Potions Professor no less. But your limits are important. You are unsure and you are easily frightened about the entire situation – or what I could do to you. And therefore you do need those low limits for your own peace of mind – and this is absolutely fine."

"But … but I feel as if … I don't want to use it so lightly." The boy then said. "I mean, this isn't the purpose of this kind of relationship then, is it?"

"What exactly is the purpose of this relationship, Mr. Potter?" Snape then asked, frowning.

"Well … oh, Merlin! Please … can't we talk about something else?"

"We could, of course, but we won't."

"You're enjoying this!"

"Indeed." He smirked.

Again taking a deep breath as if preparing himself for something that was life-threatening, the teen looked up at him, desperate still but defeated.

"It's about … well, it's about erotic stimulation and … well, adding color to the sex life … it's about feeling more than with just light sex … and it's about offering pain or … strain that leads up to … well, pleasure …"

"Exactly." The Potions Master said, pleased with the boy's answer. Of course it was still hesitant and the brat's cheeks had become as red as humanly possible, but he was able to use words like erotic stimulation, sex and pleasure – something he hadn't been able to two weeks ago. "And where in this is mentioned that you had to go beyond your own limits from the beginning on?"

"Nowhere … but, well, it's … it can't be a limit if I afterwards feel that I used it too soon."

"Remember what I told you, Harry." He calmly said. "There will be situations where your body feels something different than your brain, and I meant it. At this particular moment, your body simply is overly stimulated and your brain is taking the upper hand and telling 'stop' while your body would be able taking more. It is a normal process and you will have to learn listening to your body and what you _feel_ instead of ending a situation you actually find pleasant rash – as long as you trust your partner."

"But how do I know that it's time to use the safeword then?" The boy asked, still not understanding.

"That is hard to answer." Snape said. "Everyone feels differently and some people are able taking more than others while at the same time you yourself will have times when you feel differently and you yourself will have times at which you can take more than at others. You simply will have to learn it."

"Couldn't you just ignore the safeword if you think I used it lightly?" The boy asked and alone this question showed him how desperately he seemed – and how foolish.

"No." He strictly said. "Remember what I have told you – to ignore the safeword is a crime and only will lead to the submissive mistrusting his dominant partner. Absolutely never is this behavior when it comes to BDSM and absolutely never will I ignore the safeword you are giving. And this is not up for discussion."

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"Are you coming, Harry?" He asked, frowning at the squirming teen who kept his place at the dining table. He had asked the brat to follow him as he wished to show him something and he was already standing, waiting for the teen to do the same, to get up from the table – yet, the brat kept sitting there, uncomfortably squirming in his seat while his blush deepened even, and only an "uhm …" came from the younger wizard as an answer.

"Harry?" He asked, frowning, not knowing what the problem was but knowing that there definitely seemed to _be_ a problem.

"Uhm …" Came the only repeated response from the boy who still kept his seat, gulping uncomfortably and for all he knew looking startled and scared, and with a worried frown he went over to the teen – just to have a hard time keeping his face indifferent and keeping himself from dropping his jaw or – Merlin forbid – blinking stupidly the moment he stood beside the boy's chair.

Well, it was a sight after all that he surely had not expected and it was reason enough to make _anyone_ blinking stupidly.

Harry had changed into pyjamas the moment they had gotten back to Hogwarts so that he could move more comfortably, something he often did in the evenings, and therefore the brat had been sitting at the table and having dinner in his pyjama pants and a pyjama top. Now however – there only was the top while the pyjama bottom was gone and the boy sitting there …

"What an interesting sight, Mr. Potter." He couldn't help commenting at the boy sitting there in all his naked glory.

"Uhm …" Came a third time and right now the Potions Master feared that not only the brat had lost his ability to speak in a coherent sentence for the reminder of his life but that his head would explode at any moment either.

"Do you need any help there, Harry?" He then asked, trying to sound relaxed – while he felt anything else than relaxed at the sight of his submissive sitting there naked – and trying to hide the fact that he himself was very aroused by what he saw. He didn't wish to cause the teen feeling any more uncomfortable than he already did, seeing that it was a good sign after all that the boy had started thinking of sex in a positive way and allowing himself to _get_ aroused – and wet. For far too long the boy had thought that sex was something wrong and unclean that only would hurt him and it was time that he learned differently.

"I just … I just got … well, and then … and the vanishing spell didn't just vanish … well, but the pyjama pants as well because … well … they were … wet … I guess …" The teen murmured, stammered, startled while looking up at him with wide and frightened eyes.

"Hmm, I can see that." He answered, keeping his smirk to himself for once and simply waving his wand at the brat, conjuring a pyjama bottom that wound itself around the boy's legs and hips until they fit perfectly. "Are you ready to accompany me now?" He then asked, keeping himself from reacting to the situation the way he would like to. He simply would take a cold shower before bed, like he so often did lately. Merlin! This particular boy was driving him into insanity slowly but surely!

Shyly but with a relieved sigh the boy got up from his chair and hesitantly, unsurely went over to him and Severus simply placed his hand onto the boy's shoulder, led him towards the boy's room. Now was not the time for _that_, after all.

"The past few days I have been planning and while we have been at Prince Manor I have taken the advantage to get my plans carried out." He started and then reached out to open the door to the boy's room.

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_A new room for Harry, a new situation for Snape and a new week starting for the two of them__ …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter … thank you


	20. my home is my castle

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note:**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

Story contains adult stuff. Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things …

don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_"Are you ready to accompany me now?" He then asked, keeping himself from reacting to the situation the way he would like to. He simply would take a cold shower before bed, like he so often did lately. Merlin! This particular boy was driving him into insanity slowly but surely!_

_Shyly but with a relieved sigh the boy got up from his chair and hesitantly, unsurely went over to him and Severus simply placed his hand onto the boy's shoulder, led him towards the boy's room. Now was not the time for that, after all._

_"The past few days I have been planning and while we have been at Prince Manor I have taken the advantage to get my plans carried out." He started and then reached out to open the door to the boy's room._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter twenty**

**My home is my castle**

**Flashback**

_"We have to leave soon, Harry." Severus quietly said. "Are you ready yet?"_

_"Of course, sir." The boy answered, even if he could see that he definitely seemed to like Prince Manor, that he would have liked to stay here for a bit longer and to explore a bit more._

_Well, he had shown him the large house and the surrounding gardens in the afternoon, had pointed along the long path to the small forest that lay in some distance directly beside a just as small lake, and the boy had smiled at the prospect of exploring that small forest one day and going for a swim in the small lake. _

_He also – and that was quite unlike him – had shown the brat his laboratory here at the manor, built into the basement of the large house and the boy had made comically large eyes at alone the store room that was as large as was the entire potions laboratory at Hogwarts. Well – he wasn't a Potions Master for no reason after all and honestly, for teaching potions – any ordinary potions teacher would have been sufficient, they didn't handle all the potions ingredients after all and they didn't brew all the potions possible after all. The laboratory at Hogwarts was just halfway satisfactory for a Potions Master however and the store room at the school was rather pitiful – what had been the reason he had installed his own private laboratory and store rooms within the castle's dungeons. _

_Potter had asked what lay at the end of the small staircase that led to the deeper underground levels of the manor – but he only had smirked at him, had told him that one day he would show him. _

_Well – had he shown the brat now, he only would have startled him out of his pants and into fleeing, he was sure of that, something he did not wish. The boy was not ready for that yet. He wasn't even sure if the boy would be ready for those particular chambers ever, but he would not show him before he thought the boy was – at least not all of those chambers. The first one maybe, or the first two maybe – but surely not all of them, not yet. _

_Again, for a moment he couldn't help hitching a breath at alone the thought alone of what he would be able doing to his brat down there, at the tense and suffering and pleasure he would be able to inflict upon his brat down there and he was sure – he wouldn't be able sleeping tonight – again. _

_"Sir?" The boy asked, getting him out of his thoughts and he looked down into the green eyes that watched him with so much emotion in them. Slowly he extended his hand towards his brat – but not to touch him in any sexual way, but rather in a protective way. Yes, he had to admit that – over the short time he has spent living with the smaller male now he has come to feel a bit protective of him._

_"Nothing brat." He quietly said. "Will you be comfortable with being alone in here for a few minutes as I have a rather important matter to attend to?"_

**End flashback**

The boy had fallen asleep on the small sofa in the library with a rather large book laying open over his stomach and beneath his hands and it had been that how Snape had found his submissive when he had flooed back into the library. With a soft smile he had moved over to the young man and had crouched down in front of the young face. He had reached out gently to take the book from the boy's grip that had slackened with the coming of sleep and then he gently had run his fingers through Harry's hair, the raven haired young man making a soft noise and leaning into the touch, leaning into his hand that carded through his hair.

Again, and not for the first time – he had wondered how this young man, this boy, had managed to worm his way into his not existent heart and again he had asked himself if – but no, deep down he knew that this wasn't the case, even now.

Harry meant far more to him than being an extension or replacement for his mother, always had, even back then when he only had tried to keep the brat he had loathed for so long safe. And throughout all the time of the previous days and weeks – he had grown to care for that boy deeply. He was the very best parts of both his parents, he had to admit that, even if he was sure that he had all the infuriating parts definitely inherited from his father, but for all of that – he still was his own person, polite, caring, brave, silly even – and stubborn as well as passionate in his own childlike way.

Huffing at his own thoughts the Potions Master shook his head.

This all was irrelevant – he doubted that his own feelings towards the boy were returned by his submissive and straightening his shoulders he led Harry towards his room. Those emotions of him, they would be down played and they would better remain where they were best kept – namely hidden.

What did not keep him from showing the boy to his own room now, seeing that Harry had _never_ had something like an own room and seeing that the boy deserved that much if not more as long as he lived with him. The moment the boy had decided to leave him, had gotten bored of his presence and had found a partner that was more attractive – or young – he would have to accept that and he would have to deal with it the moment it happened, but until then – he would provide the boy with what he needed and with what he deserved.

So he led the boy on his shoulder towards the room he had occupied for the last few days and then reached out to open the door, gently shoving the boy through the door and inside.

"The past few days I have been planning and while we have been at Prince Manor, I have taken the advantage to get my plans carried out by Zilly and Minerva."

The boy's face was a blank mask while he looked through the room that wasn't a simple guest chamber anymore but a room that held a more personal touch. Not Gryffindor red colours, but a personal touch though.

The first thing he had asked Zilly to install, had been a window that now was sitting opposite the door, a large window that allowed a clear view over the Quidditch field. The second change was the cupboard being exchanged for simple shelves along one wall for not only his school supplies, any books he might collect over the time and personal items, but for his clothes as well. Alone the thought of a cupboard being in the boy's room had made him growl with barely contained fury after he had learned that the Dursleys had kept that boy in a cupboard, and he was glad to see the new instalment now.

Another change were the wooden boards of the floor being exchanged for a soft and – _fluffy_ – carpet in a soft brown colour that clearly matched with the colour of the old wooden furniture. The chair in front of the desk had made place for a more comfortable armchair and the large four poster bed was now equipped with matching bed-clothes that held a mixture of soft and darker brown patchwork, the comforter having been knitted by Lily once.

The room itself has been enlarged and there was a small fire roaring in the fireplace that hadn't been there recently. Another door too had been installed that led to an extra bathroom so that Harry would have a bit more privacy. But the most important part – except for the window, of that he was sure – was the ceiling. He had asked Minerva to transfigure it into the sky outside, not unlike the ceiling in the great hall, but without being all that gloomy and depressing on stormy and cloudy days but showing – even with the clouds, a bit of sunlight or stars nevertheless. The boy had enough grey and dark and cold experiences in his life and surely he could use a bit more sunshine and clear night skies than anyone else.

He watched the boy's blank face that was a very guarded mask, the green eyes being half lidded and not expressing anything – considering how expressive they normally were. He followed the boy's eyes to the desk, to the picture of his mother that Minerva or Zilly had placed there, to the photo album that laid in the shelf, to another picture of Harry, Weasley and Granger – a picture he surely would not have placed there at the present time, not before the situation with Weasley had been cleared, but well. He followed the boy's gaze to a row of books in the shelf which the boy had collected throughout the years, to a small dragon that moved and reminded him strangely at the dragon that had been the boy's in his first task throughout the triwizard tournament and finally to a plushie that surely was meant being an owl and which the miniature dragon seemingly tried to use as a playmate.

At last the boy looked back over at him, Snape, and for a moment he, the Potions Master, the emotionless bastard of the dungeons, Death Eater and most hated teacher within Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry – _he_ didn't know what to do at the absolute lost gaze the boy regarded him with.

There were a few things to say that came to his mind, starting with "it's your room", followed by "surely you didn't expect me keeping you in a cupboard" and "if it's not to your liking you can change anything" up to "don't look as if you had seen a flying cow" but nothing of those remarks seemed right – nor important, and after a moment of hesitance he walked over to the brat and simply pulled him close by his shoulders until a pale face rested on his chest. He wrapped his arms around small and shaking shoulders and immediately knew – the boy was crying. If he only knew why he was crying. But then – didn't he already know? Didn't he know that the boy simply was overwhelmed like he always was when being given anything? And this, a room, it wasn't simply anything, it was something big in the boy's eyes.

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It was the next day that he finally had made his mind up. Getting Harry to sleep last night hadn't been any trouble, the boy hadn't even realized that he had cried himself out the moment his arms had come around the slender shoulders and he himself had been beaten by the absolute thankfulness the boy had expressed upon such a simple thing as a – room.

So he had definitely had enough time watching the brat in his sleep – again, as if it weren't a standard lately, him, watching his brat, and it had been in those hours that he finally had made his mind up. He would do as he had suggested to Harry a few days ago, he would do what had been the reason as to why he had taken the boy to Privet Drive in the first place, he would bond with him and he would stop spying on the Dark Lord.

War or not war – Harry was his priority number one now. He was thirty-six, and he always had followed Dumbledore's orders and requests – he had now earned himself the right to have a life by himself and this life would be one to live with Harry. The boy deserved as much just as well as did he, to have a person who cared about him and who was there with him, who kept him safe and out of the war's clutches that were not meant for a child anyway.

"Come here, Harry." He quietly ordered, but it was spoken so softly, so gently, that it almost sounded more like a request than an order at all. "On your knees." He then ordered, his voice a low growl and he could tell that the bloody brat – once more – lost all of the blood in his brain that seemed to settle in some lower regions, leaving him unable to think properly and leaving him aroused, and he could feel the arousal coming from his brat who still stood there, looking up at him unsurely and expectantly. From his brat! He, a thirty-six year old greasy Potions Professor, he was able to cause arousal to a sixteen year old teenager that surely could have more promising young men than him! And yet, he could feel the unsureness, the arousal, the tension and the slight fear radiating off the brat, coming of the boy's pendant and settling into his ring.

"This is not what you are thinking." He quietly said, fixing the – still standing – boy with a disapproving stare of his dark eyes. "Kneel here beside me, facing the fire." He then instructed and finally Harry obeyed, again looking up at him expectantly and unsurely. "Head down." He said and again the boy obeyed, ducked his head and settled his eyes onto the flames.

"Good." He then said, taking a deep breath and turning towards one of the shelves that lined the walls. "I am going to talk and you are going to listen. Any word of interruption from you, and you will be sent back to your room – do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The boy quietly answered and he could hear the unsureness and the fear even in the soft voice. He would not react to it now. He had to make sure a few things at first, he would have to make his point at first. And he would need the boy's reaction to it first.

"Good." He again said, taking a deep breath. "I am a difficult man." He then started his explanation and he could feel his brat having to fight against the urge of giving contradiction – what nearly made him smile. Nearly, mind you. "I am stubborn and I can be arrogant as well as domineering. I am an old man and so I am set in my ways. I am unbearable in the morning until I have had my first cup of coffee and I always drink my coffee without sugar and milk. I never wear anything except of black and I never would allow red or golden being added into our common quarters. I have my special cup and I do not like anyone else using it as well as I have my very own knife. I won't allow anyone eating anything within these quarters without using a platter either. My laboratory is not to be entered, under no circumstances and these quarters have to be kept clean – always. No cloak is to be thrown over the backrest of an armchair or the sofa and no book is to be left on the table. I hate hair being left behind in the sink of the bathroom or the toilet not being flushed after being used. You better never dare trying to use my side of the bed, my pillow or my blanket – they are mine and I do not share them as my sleep is sacred to me. Never even _think_ of straightening out my bed. You better leave it in the disarray I have left it as it is well that way. No one ever will smoke within these quarters and no one ever will use the floo without my permission first. But most of all – I am possessive. I am possessive of not only my belongings but I will be possessive of you as well. You will have to accept that and take me the way I am. I am all – or I am nothing. So, if you have anything you are unsure about, then you will have to tell me or ask me about it as I surely will not tolerate you experimenting around my person."

He made a short pause, waiting if Harry would say anything to what he had just told the brat while his hand automatically seemed to reach out for the boy's head, his fingers softly carding through the soft hair but the teen didn't and he could feel the strain coming from his brat while he tried to not lean into the touch, but to concentrate onto his words instead. And again he could feel the pure bliss, the pure happiness of simply being touched in a kind and friendly way instead of being beaten – a thought that not only startled him, but that sickened him at the same time, feeling that he had not done enough to punish the boy's relatives.

"This bond I am offering to you, it is not legally binding in the muggle world, but in the wizarding world." He softly said, not pulling back his hand from where it rested on the boy's head. "It will allow you to move in with me, completely. You, as my submissive, you will have to respect me, my age and my wisdom and you will have to obey my commands in the end, while at the same time I as your dominant will care for you and for your needs, will provide you with not only food, a roof over your head, clothes and school supplies but will care for your person, for your health, for your safety and for your happiness at the same time as teach you in any areas of life. You will have to trust me and you will have to place your safety, your happiness and your life into my hands – while I will gladly and by free will give my life to keep you safe, happy and alive. You will be mine – while at the same time you will belong to me."

Again he paused, waiting if the boy would say anything while still his hand rested on the teen's head, his fingers carding through the soft hair as if moving by their own, but again – the boy did not do so, did say nothing.

"I will take off your pendant for now and I will leave you here alone to think while I take a short walk." He said, pulling away his hand and he could feel the boy stiffen even before his fingers had left the soft hair completely. "This offers you the privacy you need for such a decision without my presence overbearing you. It also gives you – for this one time – the chance to leave these quarters or to go into your room while I am gone if you feel that you are not ready for that bond or if there are any things which you need to think of first – or if there is someone else out there that you feel is more suited for you, then please do not be here when I get back. If I however return and you are still here, I will take it as an agreement and you feeling ready to go into this bond with me. So please, do think about what I have said. This is your chance to determine if a life with me is really what you wish for."

And with these words he turned and then quickly left his quarters, hurrying along the dungeons corridors and climbing the flights of stairs that led him to the entrance hall which he just as quickly crossed to leave the castle at all and to step out into the grounds and into the cool autumn air that held mist and a full moon tonight.

'You are such an idiot!' A sneering voice in the back of his mind spoke up. _'__Really, __telling__ the __brat __how __unpleasant __you __are __before __the __bonding __has __taken __place?__ Scaring__ him__ off __with __your __idiotic __rules __and __habits?__ Hope __you__ enjoy __it __being __alone __for__ the __reminder __of __your __life. __It__ isn__'__t __as__ if__ you __had __such __a __small __and __willing __sub __at__ your __hands __each__ day __after __all!__'_

"You better be silent." He answered back in his own mind. "The brat has been through enough. He has been through too much and he deserves to have someone on his side he is able and willing to spend the reminder of his life with instead of someone he feels not entirely sure about and if I am not that person, then I should not be in his way! He has had enough decisions forced upon himself for the past fifteen years."

And nevertheless – while he walked along the misty way he had to ignore the butterflies that were doing a strange dance in his stomach, a feeling he realized he hadn't felt since many, many years, since Lily had died fifteen years ago, because yes – he did not wish to have Harry being gone upon his return. He indeed did wish Harry being still there upon his return, to still kneeling in front of the fireplace or to having made himself comfortable on his sofa even – anything, as long as he wasn't gone, as long as he hadn't left.

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Harry in the meantime was still kneeling in front of the fireplace and trying to be as patient as possible.

He didn't understand Severus' problem and he didn't have to think about it at all.

Severus made him feel loved, wanted and protected. He made him feel as if he was not a lower person but an equal. He made him feeling cared for and respected. Sometimes Severus even seemed to see some kind of treasure in his, Harry's, person. He didn't understand it and neither would he ever understand it, he guessed, but it was like this and the possessiveness the older wizard had mentioned – he didn't care about it, he could live with that! On the contrary – as long as Snape was possessive of him he knew that he belonged to the older wizard, that Snape still wanted him, that he wasn't alone.

And that Snape wasn't easy? He already had known that, honestly, he knew that man since more than five years now after all, but he didn't care about that either. He too wasn't easy to handle, so what? Snape – as hard as he might be – was at least ready to take him, a teenager, not only into his quarters but into his life as well and he only could imagine how hard this must be, and how daunting it must be for a man as set in his ways as was Professor Snape.

He didn't have a problem with respecting the man either, he already did and despite the dislike between the two of them – he already always had respected Snape. He had grown up showing his respect towards people and surely no one could ever tell that he didn't show his respect or acted disrespectful even. And to obey Snape? Had he ever not done so?

Well, except of the few times when there hadn't been any other chance like with his habit of disregarding curfew. He'd had to leave his dormitory or the stone would have been in Voldemort's hands and he'd had to roam the castle after curfew or Ginny would have died. And he'd had to go to Hagrid after curfew or he'd been found of owning a dragon what was forbidden. There had been so many incidents when he had disregarded curfew, but no one had ever asked why he had disregarded them, nor had they ever helped. They only always had punished him for it.

But he had no problem with obeying Snape generally. He already did anyway and well – wasn't it meant for him to be the obeying part? Snape had never hurt him with his commends, he always seemed to have a reason to them and he always – Merlin! The man even made him feeling … feeling strange … feeling things …

Slowing down his pace Severus walked back to his quarters, wondering if Harry had gone to his room to think, or if he had left his quarters at all – signalling that he didn't wish to enter that particular bond with him, that he didn't wish to continue their relationship and he dreaded the moment he would open the door and find those rooms empty. And surely they would be.

What reason did the brat have to stay with him while there were so many young and good looking men outside? Men who were not as hard to handle as he was? Men who were not as harsh and sarcastic as he was? The boy had absolutely no reason at all to stay with him and with a frustrated sigh he placed his hand at the wooden door that led to his private quarters, watching the door opening and he took a deep breath, preparing himself for the loss upon entering his parlour – if he just had not taken off the pendant, then at least the boy would have to come to him one more time.

A moment later he stopped mid-step, his eyes growing large for a second before he had his bewilderment back under control and he was utterly shocked, stepping back into his living room and finding his brat – _his_ brat! – still there on his knees and waiting for him.

Stepping beside the small kneeling form he stopped and looked down, the boy only slowly taking his eyes off the flames and even more slowly looking up at him, unsurely, like always, and so scared, as always, as if he feared he had done something wrong and he extended his hand, inviting the boy to take it. Another moment went by, the green eyes flickering with panic for a moment before becoming – scared but calm again – and then the boy actually slowly extended his own hand and placed it into his, Snape's, larger one.

He knew exactly how hard it must be for that particular boy to trust him, of all people, having learned nothing but mistrust from not only his relatives but from him as well and he very much appreciated the careful trust the boy placed into his hands. Gently he pulled the boy up from the floor unable to keep his face and his eyes from going soft and he knew it.

Wordlessly he opened his arms, huffing as the boy's slight form hit him forcefully, the boy throwing himself into his arms with a choked sob and he brought his arms around _his_ Harry.

He looked down into those overly large and hopefully green orbs, the boy radiating sheer bliss and happiness while he looked up at him, the way the boy fir himself into his arms while he, Snape, slipped them around his slim form – yes, it was what had to be and he knew it. And he knew it for not the first time.

"Are you alright, Harry?" He softly asked while brushing the slightest of kisses over the boy's forehead.

"Hmm." The brat eloquently made, not taking his head from his, Snape's, chest where he had resting it. "Very alright."

"You have that look on your face." He said, frowning. "The one you have on your face whenever you are thinking about something but do not know if you should say it or not. Or if you were allowed to."

"You shouldn't now this look." The boy said, his voice nearly sounding scared again – or lost somehow.

"I do know you better than you think, brat." He growled, not willing to make his submissive any more miserable.

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"Sir?" The boy asked, unsurely and he frowned at the boy who still did not dare using his given name.

"Yes, brat?" He asked, taking a deep and satisfied breath himself when the boy smiled happily upon his use of the term brat. How was it that the boy, a teenager, was so happy with him, Snape, calling him brat? Had he had so little attention – except for beatings and rape – and he refused to call it anything else, so that he was now happy over being called a name like _'__brat__'_? It wasn't as if he called the boy 'love' or such ridiculous and over emotional nonsense after all and yet – the boy smiled happily whenever he called him – _'brat'_!

"Haven't thanked you last night." The boy shyly said, blushing but not averting his eyes and he wondered what the boy meant.

"Whatever for, brat?" He asked, frowning.

"For the room." The boy then said, quietly and he could hear the appreciation in the hesitant voice – as well as the unsureness. Did the boy think that this room would be taken from him if he made something wrong? Did the boy fear that it wouldn't be permanent?

"You will be a Snape soon, Harry." The Potions Master said. "Do you not think that as my husband you will need your own privacy as much as do I? I have my very own study here within these quarters at Hogwarts and so have you now as it is rightfully so. You also will have your private set of rooms at Prince Manor as soon as we have performed the bond. You will be the one owning the entire Snape heirloom the day I die after all and you will have to get used to such things until then."

"Then I don't want to have it! Not ever!" The boy nearly shouted, his voice sounding startled, scared and angry, betrayed even and seriously he looked down at the teen he still held in his arms.

"This is the normal way of life, Harry." He said, his dark eyes piercing the green ones. "I am twenty years older than you, I am thirty-six, and seeing that my life surely won't get any easier throughout the next few years – I do not believe that I will survive you. It will be you making sure that the Snape line won't die – and especially won't die in shame, Harry."

"No!" The boy shook his head forcefully. "Wizards are getting older than muggles! Just look at Dumbledore, how old is he? One hundred and fifty years old? I don't know but surely over one hundred! What are twenty years at that age! And surely you won't … you can't die so soon … it wouldn't be fair and … I won't allow it …"

"I won't die tomorrow, idiot child!" He darkly growled at the overly emotional outburst from the teenager. "And I surely won't die the day after tomorrow either. I only say that it will be you ending the Snape Name one way or another and you only can do such properly if you are prepared and well versed in wizarding social standards concerning ancient families and pure blood names – and owning such a thing as a private chamber within a shared space is just the smallest things of those standards. You will own – and know – much more one day.

"I don't wanna have it in thousand years either if it means that you'll die." The boy growled back at him and for the first time he could feel anger radiating from his brat, could feel the determination and the fierce willpower behind the fear that he could still fee being there in the boy's aura.

"I am honored at your concerns, but even your fiery determination of keeping my person from death will not keep time nor life from enfolding itself." He said with a sigh while he allowed his hand to come up towards the boy's face and brushing the dark hair from the pale face, gently, affectionately. "And believe me, in thousand years both of us will be gone since long. You will have to accept life and fate as well as do I – as does any wizard. But I of course will do my best to stay alive as long as humanly possible if this makes you happy, brat."

Well, the smile he got from said brat was worth enduring the boy shouting at him and something in his heart stirred – again – something within his heart that until now he had regarded as an organ that simply served as a pump to keep his body alive, that was the sole purpose of his heart, that and nothing more, allowing him to be a cold and composed man that didn't act emotionally and foolishly but logically and sanely.

Again his dark eyes met the questioning gaze of green eyes that bore into his entire being and suddenly he knew – deep down, he knew that he was flame and fire, life in all its greatest power and ready to be taken and lived – not unlike Harry himself.

"Allow me until tomorrow or the day after tomorrow to inform the headmaster of our relationship and intention of entering a bond." He said. "I have to consider of how I will address the old meddling coot with something as important as this – lest he will start meddling with this – or die of a heart attack."

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The next morning came and brought a cold storm that seemed to try and overrun the castle – just like it had done the entire night – and so the great hall found itself filled with tired students, the younger ones of them looking still scared or at least uncomfortable.

His dark eyes strayed towards the Gryffindor table where he could make out one Harry Potter – soon to be Snape – sitting at one end of the bench, far away from Weasley, Granger and Co. He however couldn't help noticing that he threw longing gazes every now and then towards them and he neither missed the strange – and nearly worried – gazes Granger and Longbottom threw back at him. So, as it seemed, not all was lost within the Gryffindor house when it came to Potter.

Said Potter currently was holding a peach in his hand and he was glad that the boy finally had started having more than a cup of tea for his breakfast, that he had taken to have a piece of fruit at least since he wouldn't eat something more substantial like toast and sausages.

"You do know, Severus, I really wonder when you finally will take a bond." He heard Minerva beside him murmuring and he knew exactly what the blasted woman meant with her comment. He had visited her after all just a few days ago and had informed her about her student being in a relationship with him, Snape. "You are thirty-six now after all and you won't get younger."

The brat looked over at him, Severus, looked then back at the peach, giving the same sort of hungry look for both of them before bringing it in between his teeth and taking a nip of it, slowly and with his eyes closed for a moment, causing the Potions Master to frown the moment the boy reopened them and again looked up at the head table, at him. A drop of the juice run along the boy's jaw and he caught it with his finger which he put into his mouth to lick it clean slowly, again closing his eyes for a moment before running his tongue along the sweet and juicy flesh of the fruit, licking off the remaining juice before the drops could fall down.

At that moment the Potions Master wished he could be that exact peach.

"Really, Severus, my boy." The headmaster chuckled. "Minerva is right. You should search for a nice young man and make sure that the Snape family name won't die."

Frowning and with a slight scowl over his face he looked back at his brat – who surely would be a more pleasant company right now than those two imbeciles who only were interested in his sex life. That at the present time was more cruel to him than anything else and he swore – he would have the boy paying.

Said boy at the present time looked over at him with a smile on his face and his thumb running over his lips where some of the sweet juice must have been left as the next moment he slowly, painfully slowly, cruelly slowly, run the tip of his red tongue over the red lips before he sucked his finger into his mouth.

"You know, Minerva, I think we should bring Severus together with a few young men." The bloody headmaster said. "I don't think our dear Potions Master would appreciate women, do you, Minerva?"

"Oh, surely not, Albus, honestly!" Minerva shook her head, sounding outraged.

His scowl deepening he looked back down at the boy who just now cut a piece from the juicy fruit, slowly, before licking the length of the knife and he winced at the thought of the blasted brat cutting his tongue accidentally. The idiot boy put the piece of the peach between his teeth, licking and sucking at the fleshy fruit before eating it up – as well as the Potions Master's patience and he didn't know if the boy even was aware of what exactly he was doing to him. He even doubted that he knew what he was doing to him, not even approximately.

"What do you think, Severus?" The idiot deputy headmistress went on with a knowing smirk on her face. "I just know a nice young man who …"

"I really would appreciate it, if you two stopped gossiping over my sex life – and over me in general. But have us talking about you, Minerva. When exactly had you had any sexual relations last?"

The blush that spread over Minerva's face nearly made him chuckle lightly – nearly, while Albus got off the table quickly with a murmured "rather go now" and the deputy headmistress nodding with a murmured "you better do that" on her lips.

"You … you cannot be serious." The Potions Master said, his voice as incredulous as his eyes before he paled and then groaned in pure frustration. "Merlin!" He gasped in shock.

"Just shut up, Severus!" Minerva hissed through her teeth, hurrying off the table just as well and disappearing behind the same door as Albus had, leaving the Potions Master behind to reach out for his mug and smirking at his submissive over the edge of the mug when he took a sip of the bitter but hot coffee. Yes, the boy soon would know what exactly he was doing to him.

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**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_Making it known and the evilness of a Potions Master …  
_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter … thank you


	21. making it known

**Title:**

I just wanted to ask

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

Sixth year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

With Voldemort on his back and some other things that always nearly killed him, Harry hadn't had many experiences when it came to – sex. So whom will he ask anything about it when he begins to get interested?

**Disclaimer: **

Well – I surely would love to own Severus … but as it is … I do not … J. K. Rowling does … regrettably …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm … ok … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing …

**Added author's note**

Yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site … and even if it is just so I know if I should continue with this story or abandon it …

**Warning:**

Story contains adult stuff. Especially sex between two men … as there is Harry Potter – a male – having sex with Severus Snape – another male … what means those gay things …

don't like it, don't read it …

* * *

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**Previously in I just wanted to ask**

_"I really would appreciate it, if you two stopped gossiping over my sex life – and over me in general. But have us talking about you, Minerva. When exactly had you had any sexual relations last?"_

_The blush that spread over Minerva's face nearly made him chuckle lightly – nearly, while Albus got off the table quickly with a murmured "rather go now" and the deputy headmistress nodding with a murmured "you better do that" on her lips._

_"You … you cannot be serious." The Potions Master said, his voice as incredulous as his eyes before he paled and then groaned in pure frustration. "Merlin!" He gasped in shock._

_"Just shut up, Severus!" Minerva hissed through her teeth, hurrying off the table just as well and disappearing behind the same door as Albus had, leaving the Potions Master behind to reach out for his mug and smirking at his submissive over the edge of the mug when he took a sip of the bitter but hot coffee. Yes, the boy soon would know what exactly he was doing to him._

**I just wanted to ask**

**Chapter twenty-one**

**Making it known**

Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, grasped his mug of coffee and got up, knowing that he had some planning to do as only a true Slytherin could, knowing that he only had a few moments for his planning, and then he left for the headmaster's office.

On his way out of the great hall and through the entrance hall of the castle, up the spiral staircase – after giving away the password of yet another silly sweet Albus so loved – he turned all the information he so far had gathered in his mind, not only about the brat that soon would be his husband, but over Minerva's reaction and the Dursleys' reactions as well, and about any laws about teacher/student relationships. To his knowledge it was allowed as long as it was an educational relationship, what Harry's and his was, and in such a relationship he – with the approval of the headmaster – was even allowed to teach his husband, as it added to his education.

Taking a deep breath he knocked onto the dark wooden door that led into the office when he had climbed all those stairs without even waiting until the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office had brought him up completely by itself. He simply wanted to get this over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

"Do come in if you must, Severus!" Came the old man's answer from inside the office, followed by a frustrated groan of the headmistress, and he nearly smirked. If Albus gave him any troubles over his announcement, then alone this frustrated groan was worth it.

"What can I do for you this morning, Severus?" Albus asked, looking at him worriedly and again he nearly smirked.

"Do calm down, Albus, will you?" He answered, lifting his eyebrow at the headmaster. "I have not visited you to ask you for your – sexual relations, as thrilling as this surely would be. I have a different reason."

"I never would have thought that, my dear boy." Albus quickly muttered before smiling at him. "Care for a sherbet lemon, my dear Severus?" Was then the first question that greeted the man upon fully arriving within the circular room and having closed the door – while one headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, was present at his office as well and he scowled at the headmaster.

"As shocking as your revelation has been just a moment ago, no thank you, Albus, I do not need a calming potion right now." He answered, taking a seat at the large table that stood in the middle of the room. "I however do suggest that you take one of your own infamous sweets."

"Why would you think that I lace my drops with a calming draught, my dear boy?" The old man asked, sounding incredulous and he sighed exasperated, shaking his head.

"Maybe because I do have a diploma stuck to the wall in my office that states that I am – a Potions Master?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the old man.

"Oh, just shut up, Albus and listen to Severus." Minerva said, blandly, and Severus' annoyance grew. "And you better take a sip of your best whiskey also."

"Severus?" Albus asked, looking over at him, worried. "Minerva?" Apparently the headmaster knew that if his – well, deputy, suggested something like that, then it must be serious.

"How very wise, Minerva." He scowled at the woman. "Going about the subject as subtle as you have done just now, only a true Slytherin would be as sly and as cunning as you have been just now."

"There is no need to becoming insulting, Severus." The woman huffed at him.

"Severus? What is wrong?" Albus asked, _very_ worried now.

"Absolutely nothing, headmaster, considering that your deputy has just betrayed her own student, handed him over to one of the Death Eaters and therefore signed his death warrant without the slightest qualms." He calmly said, trying to save the situation while exaggerating before dropping the bomb. "I suggest you look for a new deputy and call over the aurors if you wish to keep your school protected."

"Severus?" The headmaster asked a third time, not understanding and looking dumb for all his life.

"I beg your pardon, Severus?" Minerva at the same time asked, gasping for breath and it nearly was a comical sighed.

"Minerva?" Albus asked and for a moment Severus wondered if somehow the headmaster had lost his ability for coherent speech – or thoughts.

"Maybe you better do as Severus suggested and call over the aurors." Minerva snapped impatiently and he knew that he had her in on his plan. "Because I fear that you will have to arrest Severus for not only kidnapping a student, but for using an unforgivable on him as well. Take that, Severus!"

"Minerva?"

"Care to inform me of what particular unforgivable you accuse me of having used, Minerva?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"But yes!" The woman smirked at him. "It's been the imperious curse of course!"

"Severus? Please!"

"Ah, well." He said, shaking his head and taking a deep breath, as if in defeat. "In this case … I give the shoe over to the Dursleys and accuse _them_ of child neglect, child abuse and attempted murder!"

"You what?" The headmaster now asked and it was clear that he understood even less than a moment ago.

"I accuse the Dursleys of child neglect, child abuse and attempted murder." Severus calmly answered, his eyebrow lifted at the headmaster.

"Oh, Merlin!" The old man said. "But Harry is alive! He's here at Hogwarts after all and …"

"The question will be of how long he will stay alive there." Minerva growled darkly and the Potions Master frowned at the woman. She hadn't even seen anything from the boy!

"I always have suspected that Harry's life at the Dursleys' house has never been as idyllic as I had hoped it would be when I left the infant on their doorsteps only hours after the murder of his parents, but I didn't know for sure because Harry stubbornly refused to tell anyone exactly what went on behind the closed doors of number four Privet Drive, and until I had something concrete to take to wizarding child service, I can't do anything to place Harry somewhere else."

"I fear there won't be need for you to place him with the Dursleys ever again." Severus calmly said. "Seeing that Minerva has already handed him over to a Death Eater and therefore …"

"Severus!" The booming voice of one Albus Dumbledore stopped him mid-sentence and he smirked at the shocked and angry face of the headmaster.

"Oh, alright, Albus!" Minerva called out, wringing her hands and he lifted his eyebrow at the blasted Gryffindor woman. "You are of course right! But well, I fear that Severus is correct in one thing after all, there won't be need for you to place him with the Dursleys ever again, seeing that Severus has already kidnapped and imperioused him …"

"Enough!" Albus cried desperately. "What have I done to having deserved two teachers as … as … like you two!"

"Do calm down, Albus." Severus said, shaking his head again, but this time in clear annoyance about the stupidity the old man just displayed. "I only came here this morning to announce – that I have a relationship with Potter."

"Yes, that is very well, my dear Severus, but what is this annoying quarreling of yours about?" The headmaster asked and he lifted his eyebrow at the old man.

"Well, I had to make sure that you took the news without getting a heart attack, Albus, after Minerva has just dropped the bomb that I had any news that would require you drinking a tumbler of your best whiskey."

"Why would I get a heart attack, my dear Severus?" Albus answered. "I somehow fear that I do not really understand …"

"Did you even notice what Severus just said, Albus?" Minerva asked, frowning at her … well, employer.

"Of course I noticed, Minerva!" Albus gazed at Minerva intently. "And as curious and happy about that as I am, that is not what we need to address. Young love is not the problem here. The problem is where to place Mr. Potter."

"That's not a question, Albus!" Minerva growled. "We apparently can't send him back to that … _place_ … blood wards or not. He'd probably die there just as quickly as if we sent him to You-Know-Who with a ribbon around his neck and a nice little card."

He snorted at Minerva's words, his coal black eyes glaring at the older wizard who was suddenly twinkling again and he immediately became serious again - that was never a good sign, Albus' eyes twinkling, because it always meant that he was plotting something – and mostly it was something unpleasant for him, Severus.

"Very well, my dear boy, seeing that you already have overtaken guardianship over Harry and seeing that the boy is already living in your quarters – I am sure that you do know, only a permanent bond would be as safe for Harry as are the blood wards." Albus said and he growled.

"What do you think is the reason as to why I demanded guardianship from the Dursleys in the first place?" He asked, growling at the old meddling fool.

"You knew, Albus?" Minerva gasped, in clear shock.

"The day that this old meddling fool fails to notice anything happening in this bloody school of his, it will be the day the Dark Lord appears before us in diapers with milk bottle in one hand, pacifier in the other and calling him '_daddy__'_." He growled at the headmistress.

"Of course I did and honestly, at times like these I am very glad that spouses can be together at school no matter what roles they are in or I would have to break you two up which would be a shame."

"Forgive me to ask, Severus, but surely you will stop spying now, won't you?" Minerva then asked, getting serious again and he nearly could see the hopeful look in her eyes.

"You do realize that we _need_ a spy, Minerva." He softly answered. He had already made his mind up, but he wanted to know what Albus and Minerva thought of that first.

"That might be, Severus." The woman softly answered. "But surely you do realize that Harry needs you being safe."

"Well, then this is settled." Albus smiled his infuriating smile.

"You do realize that the Dark Lord won't be too pleased about me quitting my services to him." He said with a frown at the headmaster.

"Yes, yes, my boy." Albus still smiled. "But you are safe here at Hogwarts, as is Harry, and Snape Manor – it is an old family property and I have no doubt that it is heavily warded. After all, except for Tobias Snape, the Snape's are some of the most paranoid witches and wizards I've ever known, no offence, Severus. Harry and you will be safe there once the bond has been performed. If this is what this meeting is about after all."

"It is." Severus calmly said.

"Well, then I suggest that we call upon the young man." Albus smiled widely and happily. "As the headmaster I will have to question him just as well. Maybe you could wait in my study?"

"Of course." He sighed, getting off the armchair. He had known after all that the headmaster would question Harry on the subject before he would give his final permission. Not that he would listen to the man, Harry and he – they wanted this, but he rather would do this without going against the headmaster.

"Oh, and Severus." The old man said. "Now that you are no longer a spy, I would ask you to treat all students equally. I don't care if you are nice to them, but at least be equally evil to all of them please." Dumbledore said and Severus smirked, knowing the old coot enough for now to know that – it already was some kind of permission.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Care to tell me what's wrong with you – aside from being a good shag for Snape?" Ron asked, loud enough for the entire school to hear and he scowled at his former friend. "Or should I say a slave for him to be beaten up and raped!"

"Like I said a few days ago, Ron – you know nothing!" He growled back. "And even if it were, then it were none of your business anyway. So just shut up and mind your own business."

"Don't tell me what to do and what not, Potter-slave!" Ron called out and he had to force himself to not wince for a moment in front of him, because surely Snape didn't see a slave in him.

Of course, they had discussed all those things about BDSM and the subject slavedom had been amongst their discussions, but he knew that it only was a play, a game for a few hours that they had agreed to before, both of them, only if he so wished and Snape had made it clear that if there would be times that the Potions Master wouldn't wish then they wouldn't play a scene as well as they wouldn't if Harry didn't wish to. It was as easy as that. They only would play if they _both_ wanted this.

"You're just jealous because you have no sex-life at all." He growled angrily. "Maybe you start one and then maybe you'd be able to leave other people and their sex-lives alone."

"How dare you, accusing me of wanting such a thing!" Ron hissed, coming closer and again he had to force himself to not retreat a step. "You're disgusting and you're …"

"What, Weasel – you sound like wishing for a shag yourself." Malfoy's voice came from his right and groaning he turned. He was so very pissed off now! Severus would be so mad at him for not only the entire Gryffindor table knowing about them having a relationship, but at the Slytherins too, something he had warned him upon. "I will have a note pinned to the board, maybe some guy may take pity on you and take you even without money, because I'm sure that you can't afford paying for a good shag."

"You!" Ron hissed out at Malfoy, but the blond boy laughed, passing them before leaving the great hall. A moment later Ron had his wand in his hand, pointing it at him, Harry.

"All of that's only your fault, Potter-slave!" He hissed out. "Yours and Snape's! I'll show you what it means to be a slave I'll show you … servus ad dominus in dolere." A moment later there was a weave of black magic floating around them and then there was silence in the great hall, a silence so deep, you could hear a needle dropping to the floor.

"What have you done, Ron!" Hermione gasped, her face in shock and Ron was about to open his mouth to rant at them when a side door to the great hall opened.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, what exactly is going on here?" McGonagall asked and he groaned.

Of course he knew that Severus had told her about their relationship and so he knew that – McGonagall knew about it. He just wasn't ready to have her hearing Ron's words, it was enough that the Gryffindor table had heard them and he knew that she would tell Snape. Merlin! He was in trouble now!

"I do not know what exact spell you have been using, Mr. Weasley, but you better do accompany me to the headmaster as it is clearly dark magic I can feel having been cast."

"Professor McGonagall …"

"Not now, Miss Granger, and you two better hurry up to the headmaster's office, Weasley and Potter." And with those words she turned sharply and left the great hall into the direction of the entrance hall and the gargoyle that watched the headmaster's office.

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"I've brought Mr. Weasley too, Albus." Minerva said, sounding tiredly somehow and he looked up at his head of house, startled for a moment. And really, McGonagall looked old suddenly, her face wrinkled and her eyes tired and war-weary. He hadn't noticed how old she had become since his first year here at Hogwarts. "Seeing that he has …"

"I know." The headmaster said and Harry frowned. "I practically can see the dark magic wavering around Mr. Weasley, meaning that it has been cast by him, and unsuccessfully so, as it still weavers around him. Mr. Weasley, if you please take a place on the steps outside, I will call you in shortly, but the matter I have to discuss with Harry is private. I will have a word with you later, about using dark magic. Oh, and please do not leave the stairway as long as you have the aura of dark magic around you, anything could happen after all."

"Do you know what kind of spell it has been, Minerva?" The Dumbledore asked but McGonagall shook her head.

"Harry?" Dumbledore then asked, but he shook his head too. Of course he had heard the incantation Ron had said, but honestly, he didn't really remember it, nor had he understood it anyway. It's been something about domination, but that's been all he'd understood and he only had understood, because they had discussed that subject so often now, Severus and him.

"Ah well, we'll surely find out later and no harm has been done so far. I have a few questions for you right now anyway, Harry." Dumbledore then said, leaning back in his armchair. "I heard that you have a relationship with Professor Snape?"

"Uhm … well …" He said, not sure if he really could tell the truth or if the Potions Master would be in trouble then and searching for help he looked up at his head of house – who gave a curt nod away. "I guess so …" He then said, taking a deep breath. "But it's surely not Professor Snape's fault, sir. It's been me … I mean, I wanted that and …"

"Calm down, my boy, calm down!" Dumbledore said, nearly laughing and he scowled. "There is no rule against a teacher being in a relationship with a student as long as it is an educational relationship the teacher and student both have agreed to and as long as there is a bond that is formed officially and not secretly."

"It is!" He quickly said. "Professor Snape's been to my relatives and has asked for guardianship over me so that …"

"I know, Harry." Dumbledore smiled. "Severus already has told me, but as your headmaster and you as my student, I will have to ask you too if this is what you want, if you are amenable with the situation. So, do you really want …?"

"I do!" He answered without having to think about it.

"But why?" Dumbledore then asked. "I'm sure that you could find a much younger partner who would make you happy. Severus is more than twice your age after all and both your interests are a long way away from each other. Whereupon you surely would like to enjoy your youth and have a party every so often, Severus surely would like to enjoy his peace and quietness, what would hinder you in your growing."

"I don't care!" He called out. "I've never had many parties anyway and I don't care about parties either. I like it at home peacefully and sitting in front of the fire."

"Understandable, but surely you would be annoyed soon over your bond being superior to you." The headmaster said.

"But he isn't." He answered, getting desperate. He had the strange feeling that Dumbledore didn't want Severus and him being together and that he tried to get the two of them … but he couldn't allow that! He wanted this, this bond! "Severus said so himself, we're equals and he isn't superior to me!"

"Ah, very well." Dumbledore finally said and he nearly breathed a sigh of relief. "But will you be happy, my boy?"

"The brat better _be_ happy since he is not getting out of this marriage."

The soft and silky voice of one Severus Snape – it was one of the most welcoming sounds Harry had ever heard right now and he quickly turned towards the doorway where the man suddenly had appeared, dressed in one of his usual black robes and with his deadliest scowl in place. The black eyes glittered dangerously and the thin line that was the Potions Master's mouth was set in an unyielding line, the man extending his hand to wave him over.

And while it was hardly a declaration of love, for Harry, those words held the same meaning, he realized while he hid his grin and went over to the man, standing there for a moment before leaning against the dark figure after the man had pulled him close against his chest.

"I do want this." He softly repeated. "The past few weeks have been the best and the happiest in my entire life ever!"

Snape raised an eyebrow but Harry noticed how the black eyes seemed to warm suddenly and the older wizard, with much less venom than Harry had ever heard from him, growled – "your life must have been quite miserable if the past few weeks with me have been the best and – _happiest_ of your life."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

At the same time however – something inside of the Potions Master, Severus Snape, brightened and he stood straighter, prouder and taller, knowing that his junior partner did not mind a touch here or there in public, that he did not mind being touched by him in public, that he did not mind being pulled into his, Snape's, arms – in public.

"You can't even call him by his name!" Weasley's voice came from the doorway to the headmaster's office and he turned towards the door, frowning.

He had left the study behind Albus' office when he had felt Harry getting desperate, when he had felt the brat needing him, He had not noticed the Weasley boy being present too and he wondered what the idiot boy was doing here. This was private and between Harry and him – and then he noticed the aura of dark magic surrounding the idiot boy, slowly coming closer to Harry and his frown deepened while he quickly shifted his own magic to pull the boy into an unseen but protective shield.

"And it is absolutely none of your business if I called Potter 'Potter' or 'obnoxious Gryffindor', 'impertinent brat' or any other soppy nickname." He said, pulling his brat whom he could feel starting to tremble closer protectively. "_That _is between me and my future husband and no one else."

Not to mention that Weasley would be in real trouble now – for using dark magic against Harry, his submissive!

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It had been the _'the brat better be happy since he is not getting out of this marriage'_ that had made him entering the office despite the headmaster's words that this would be private and Ronald Weasley frowned at Snape as the older wizard straightened proudly, his hand coming to rest on Harry's shoulder when he had pulled him closer, and – well, he knew that Severus Snape was a stern man, a man who never smiled, never showed any kind of emotion except anger, dislike or annoyance, but right now, Ron had to rethink at seeing the black eyes the Potions Master had on Harry going soft, and the deep and velvet voice going even softer than he ever had heard the man – and Ron couldn't help swallowing while he nearly started trembling. It was a possessive look, a protective one, aimed completely at Harry and one that told Ron – Harry was Snape's entire focus.

It was intense, protective, possessive and fierce. The kind of look that told somebody that Snape wouldn't stand for anybody to hurt Harry and he couldn't help wondering – how would it feel for his friend to be the sole focus of somebody so powerful and passionate about everything he did? And he _knew_ that the Potions Master _was_ powerful and passionate about everything he did, he wasn't stupid after all and he knew that man since five years now after all.

Snape would look at a potions ingredient with some kind of interest, focus and concentration that was startling, frightening even, and he would look at his snakes in a protective and possessive way that was just as startling. And now the Potions Master looked at Harry with a mixture of those looks, one that he had to admit – Snape wore remarkably well, and he shuddered, wide eyed.

The gentle pressure that Snape might not even be aware of giving Harry's shoulder – it seemed heaven for Harry and he watched his friend leaning back into the warmth the dark wizard's arms that held him close offered, watched his friend relaxing in the older wizard's arms – and he suddenly knew, _that_ was what had to be, somehow, knew that – he, Ronald Weasley, he was only such a small screw and wheel in the machinery that was universe and fate, it wasn't his place to question it now, because this was what had to be.

And he knew this not only because of the passionate, protective and possessive emotion the otherwise emotionless and cold man right now expressed towards Harry – no, he also knew because he could count on one hand the times Harry had been unguarded and completely himself and relaxed, and it had never been in the presence of anybody except the ones he trusted completely – Hermione, Neville and him, Ron.

"I do want this." He heard Harry saying softly. "The past few weeks have been the best and the happiest in my entire life ever!"

For another moment more he wondered what exactly could be so good while living with Snape of all people. It was Snape, for Merlin's sake! It was the one man that had made their potions lessons a living hell, especially Harry's, so how could Harry now be so … so … he didn't understand.

But then he again looked at his friend, Harry closing his eyes even while he leaned against the proud form of Snape, allowing Snape to – he actually blinked at the picture – card his fingers through his hair, but not in a cruel way, not in a way that would hurt Harry, but in a comforting, calming and gentle way, one that was protective and comforting and – but how was this possible? Was their relationship not meant to be of a slave and a Master? Was it not meant for Snape to dominate Harry and to hurt him, to degrade him, to beat him and to kick at him?

The Potions Master's next words nearly had him fainting however.

"Your life must have been quite miserable, if the past few weeks with me have been the best and the – _happiest_ of your life." The man said, but not the words were what had him so very startled – it was the voice and the man's dark eyes the moment he looked down at Harry. Those eyes expressed so much warmth, he nearly could _feel_ it at the entrance door to Dumbledore's office where he stood and the man's voice was so very soft and gentle and held so much emotion – never before had he seen the man, or heard the man expressing …

"You can't even call him by his name!" He said, angrily over his own stupidity.

Why had he come to watch this anyway?

What had he … Merlin! It was as if watching Charlie and Joseph … and it was as if … it was the same he had felt for a moment during the summer holidays while he'd been in Victor's arms. Shuddering he scowled at Snape while he roughly shoved his own emotions aside, not allowing them to … to do anything!

"And it is absolutely none of your business if I called Potter 'Potter', 'insufferable Gryffindor', 'impertinent brat' or any other soppy nickname." Snape said and he could watch the older wizard pulling Harry even closer, protectively, possessively. "_That_ is between me and my future husband and no one else. And while we are at it – care to tell me what exact spell you have tried to cast at – your friend? I can feel the dark magic emerging from your core still and I can feel the dark magic trying to break into Harry still."

"What?" He couldn't help asking, startled.

He had forgotten about that blasted spell and while he only had wanted to show Harry that he was getting into so much trouble – he now suddenly realized what he had done – and paled. Merlin! He had used a dark spell to bind Harry to Snape. But he had not only used any dark spell that would simply bind Harry to Snape, but that would bind Harry to Snape as a slave!

And with this realization his vision blurred and then went dark.

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Knowing that he couldn't do anything right now except of shielding Harry's body – what had been the reason he had waved the boy over and held him in such a sappy way in front of not only Albus but Minerva as well – not to mention Weasley until he had passed out.

He immediately had noticed the presence of dark magic in the office, had noticed the moment he had left the headmaster's study when he had felt Harry's desperation, and he had noticed the barely visible black clouds that surrounded Weasley's body the moment the boy had appeared in the doorway, but – as strange as it had been, the magic that had tried to get near Harry, it hadn't really had an effect on Harry's body, not even the smallest parts of it really coming close enough to penetrate the magical aura Harry radiated, his magical signature.

At first he hadn't been too sure if parts of those small dark clouds might have already reached Harry's core earlier, but when he had reached out with his own magic to feel Harry's – he had found nothing. And nevertheless he was not ready to take any risks and so he kept his hand on his submissive's shoulder to keep a physical contact, knowing that he was able to keep the dark magic under control and from attacking the smaller body. He hadn't applied for the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher each year for nothing after all.

"Until we do know which dark spell Weasley has used, and its counter spell – I won't allow Harry out of my presence." He growled darkly at the headmaster while Minerva cast a diagnostic at Weasley and then called for Poppy. "I won't take any risks and therefore I will have to ask you to overtake my potions class for the unforeseen time."

"But sir, I have classes!" The idiot boy still in his arms said, large eyed and blinking at him.

"Your classes have been cancelled just now." He said, causing his idiot brat to blink at him again. "As has been mine."

"Of course, Severus, my boy." Albus said, getting off his armchair from behind his desk, causing the blasted brat to blink at Albus in just as much shock, most likely over the headmaster allowing him to miss classes.

"I just ask you – do not have my NEWT students creating – _candies_ – again, Albus." He asked the headmaster and a small gasp made him looking down at the boy he still held close to him, green eyes blinking up at him in shock at his words before they blinked at Albus and then again – blinked at him.

"Why are you impersonating an owl?" He asked, his brows furrowed at the boy but instead of the idiot Gryffindor complaining or scowling at his words – the Potions Master received a bright – and wide eyed – smile.

"You puzzle me more than a Gryffindor should." Severus remarked, glaring at the boy who blinked at him again.

"Allow me to take this bloody owlish brat to his respectable room in the dungeons where I can have an eye on him." He then said. "And make sure that Weasley wakes soon so that we know which counter spell to whatever spell the idiot boy has tried using on my future husband to cast! And after that, please do shield him from my wrath as any punishment set by me for attacking my submissive with a dark spell – he won't survive it." Snape growled at the headmaster while his free hand came to rest on his brat's shoulder, pressing the boy even tighter against his firm body while he purred into the boy's ears: "And you, young man, the peach you had for breakfast this morning seemed _very_ tasty."

He watched Harry gulping while he stood in front of him with eyes even larger than those of any owl would be able becoming ever.

"Well, what are you waiting for, brat? Into my office. Now." He ordered pointing at the door next to them, the door that would lead them out of the headmaster's office while he ignored the chuckle Albus gave away and the huff one Minerva McGonagall gave away.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"And you, young man, the peach you had for breakfast this morning seemed _very_ tasty." Snape said and Harry gulped while the man stood in front of him with an expression on his face that was beyond words. A dark expression, but one that spoke of – warmth, need and want. The man wanted him. Severus Snape wanted him! _Him!_

"Well, what are you waiting for, brat? Into my office. Now." The Potions Master then ordered pointing at the door that led out of the headmaster's office and his knees nearly buckled when he took the first step.

"Any troubles walking, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked the moment they had left the office, were walking down the short corridor that led to the staircase and his legs that already felt like soft and wobbling jelly – they actually threatened to give way beneath him at the dark and velvet voice.

"N-no, sir." He gasped, hoping that they would reach the man's office – and then their chambers that lay behind – _before_ his legs would fail in function for good.

"Then I fear we will have to remedy the situation right now." He heard Snape's soft voice very close behind him suddenly and he gasped again, halting in his – already unsure steps – to turn towards his senior, looking up at the man wide eyed. Surely Snape wouldn't do anything – inappropriate here? In the headmaster's corridor still?

A moment later Snape had his hand on his shoulder again, keeping him in place and from turning towards him completely, while the man's other hand circled him from behind, sneaking down his stomach, his hip, and then down towards his thigh, moving excruciatingly slowly towards his aching erection that had built within the past few seconds, but without touching it yet and he couldn't do anything else than gasping – but then … the man's hand suddenly run back over his thigh, towards the inside of it and he hitched his breath, unable to draw his breath the way his lungs were supposed to, and another moment later a firm hand applied pressure to the inside of his thigh, indicating that he should move it apart and his legs opened up, automatically obeying Snape's command given with his hand, giving way for Snape's hand to …

"You seem to be on the edge, Potter." Snape whispered into his ear, electing another harsh gasp from Harry as a reply, causing Harry's knees to start trembling, but Snape seemed to like it. "Although – I have done _nothing_ to you yet …"

_Nothing_? Harry's mind screamed through the thick fog – that, was _nothing_ to Snape? For him this felt like it might be the calm before the storm and he wasn't sure if he wanted to see what the _storm_ would be like as this foreplay already nearly made him dropping here and now – he already wasn't able to breathe yet and he already barely was able to stand yet …

Merlin! Another moment later he nearly gave away a whimper when a firm hand pressed hard against his balls, massaging them for a moment with firm strokes, causing his body to arch.

"I suggest you go on walking, Harry." Snape whispered in his deepest possible voice while he at the same time increased the pressure of his hand on the boy's private area, smirking down at his brat, enjoying the feverish gasps, the boy's trembling with pleasure that ran through him and the excited moans when finally his legs seemed to give way and he had to curl his free arm around the boy's midsection to keep him upright, the slight body leaning against him weakly. "Seeing that you surely would not want crossing the entrance hall or any corridors when lessons start in ten minutes and students are roaming?" He then added, taking a deep breath at the mixture of deepest pleasure possible coming from his brat and washing over him, Snape, the boy barely able to stand by himself.

Yes, that was his submissive and he knew that he had chosen very well.

He could make this boy trembling with pleasure upon just a few words and he could cause this boy's knees to give way with just a few touches while at the same time he could handle this boy with only one arm or hand.

Slowly releasing the boy he made sure that the brat stood on two – even if wobbly – legs, before he himself straightened, his face an indifferent mask as if nothing had happened, knowing that this was one of the things that would get Harry just the more uncomfortable, and then indicating that the boy better started walking towards the entrance hall, waving his wand at the brat with a smirk on his face.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had known that he had gripped the boy's balls tighter than it would have been necessary to make the boy horny, but he also had known that the pleasure would counter any pain the boy might have felt and the first thing after pulling away his hand from the boy's privates had been – he had cast a spell at his brat, one that would cause the boy to still feel his hand there, pressing roughly against his privates, so long – until he would cancel the spell.

He then had the boy walking down to the entrance hall, casting a privacy spell so that none of the students on their way to or from the great hall and classes would notice them and Harry's – trembling form, his wobbling gait and his gasps and moans the boy barely was able to keep hidden, as much as he definitely tried, a sight so delicious, it was one to behold, he had to admit that.

He hadn't told Harry of the privacy spell of course, had him believing that the other students would notice the boy being horny to no end, barely able to walk straight – what apparently only added to the boy's growing discomfort however and he could feel not only the boy struggling to keep his arousal hidden, but the humiliation radiating off his submissive in waves, adding to the boy's pleasure and it was enough to give him, Snape, trouble too. He would have to keep this in mind, humiliation adding to the boy's pleasure, he thought with an evil smirk.

He more than once had to reach out now to keep the brat from stumbling and crashing face first into the stony floor of the castle – not what had been on his mind for the day, and he knew that he would have to have an extra eye on Harry upon reaching the stairs that led down to the dungeons, the boy barely able to walk on straight ground even without stumbling.

Well, after he had reached out to steady the boy's form yet once more, he simply kept a firm hand on the still too thin upper arm of his brat to lead the boy down those flights of stairs and into the dungeons with a firm grip and – what he had not thought possible – the boy had given away yet another whimper, a moan of pleasure, unable to control himself any longer.

Well, he would have released the boy the moment they had reached the bottom of the stairs, but seeing what his leading him along those hallways did to the boy, he kept his firm grip, tightened his hold even and led the boy along the corridor to his office.

The moment they had reached their quarters the boy had been a squirming and trembling mess, unable to keep his whimpers and moans hidden anymore, the green eyes clouded with need and want, and the boy's lower lip pulled in between his teeth – until the boy's tongue darted out for a moment to lick over lips that were a dark red. A moment later the boy's hand twitched and with the sternest face he right now could muster he gripped the thin wrist in a painfully tight grip.

"You better keep from touching yourself." He growled darkly at the boy. "Or I will feed you a potion that will keep you from reaching an orgasm after I have fed you a potion that would increase your pleasure tenfold and believe me, you would end up as a babbling and sobbing mess, writhing on the floor and _begging_ me for a release."

"You …" The boy hitched a breath, his eyes wide. "You could … you could do that?"

"Of course I could." He growled. "And that is only _one_ of the _many_ wicked things I could do to you in order to watch you squirming and sobbing with desperate pleasure. I could have you flooded by waves of pain and pleasure in turns until you are unable to think straight and I could have you pinned to the next wall, naked of course, while casting a spell on you that turned you into a sobbing and trembling mess of pleasure for hours – while you are bound to the wall and unable giving yourself _any_ means of relief and while having me watching you in all your aroused and naked glory."

Well, a trembling and whimpering mess the boy already _was_, barely able to breathe straight, and the thin wrist still in a tight grip he led the boy towards the kitchen table.

"And now I suggest you start on your potions essay." He smirked then. "Lest you wish to remain in this particular state for the remainder of your life, seeing that I will cancel the spell that keeps you – aroused – only when you have handed in a potions essay perfect in content and writing."

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He wasn't really sure how exactly he had managed walking down the spiral staircase, through the entrance hall and down all those stairs towards the dungeons. He wasn't sure how he had managed staying on his feet and he didn't know how he had managed to keep still, to keep himself from moaning and gasping with the waves of pleasure, excitement and humiliation that washed over him, pleasure caused by each and every step he did, feeling as if Snape's hand still were pressed against his balls, excitement at what the man would do to him the moment they were in privacy and humiliation over walking along the halls like a wobbling and nearly sobbing fool, his entire form shaking for all of the other students to see …

And then Snape even had gripped his upper arm to lead him down the stairs to the dungeons and even if he had been glad for that, seeing that he had been unsure of how he would manage them in his current prediction – he had felt so very humiliated, as if Snape had dressed him naked in the middle of the great hall and then led him through the isle like a bad boy for all to see, Merlin!

But somehow he _had_ managed surviving this particular walk and now – Merlin, he didn't know how Snape managed being so very still and so cold and calm and collected and – oh, Merlin! Snape had not allowed him _any_ relief, had done nothing to him than ordering him to sit down at the kitchen table and write his blasted potions essay! While he was so damn … _horny_! And he had told him that he wanted it perfect in content and writing – _after_ he had told him what he could do to him if he so wished.

How was that man able doing this to him? Was such a thing normal? Did other men do the same things to their bonds? How could that man be so calm and collected, while he, Harry, was squirming on his chair, trying to get just the _slightest_ bit of relief out of the movements – how was Snape doing this anyway? He felt as if the Potions Master still had his extremely firm hand on his balls, pressing against them roughly, massaging them, not allowing them a moment of relief, never mind how much he squirmed on his seat and he had to close his eyes every now and then in order to keep himself from sobbing desperately, had to press his hands into tight firsts in order to still their trembling and he was sure that the man would not accept his potions essay the way it was written right now, seeing that the handwriting was shaky and the content surely anything than coherent.

If only the man would allow him a moment of relief, a moment of touching himself or at least a moment of pause so that he could take a deep breath and calm his overstrained nerves – but no! Snape enjoyed watching him struggling, enjoyed watching him squirming, enjoyed watching him gasping for breath every now and then, enjoyed watching him nearly sobbing in desperation, enjoyed keeping him on the edge forever as it seemed, and he didn't know how long he would be able surviving – while Snape watched and made sure that he didn't touch himself.

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"If I remember correctly, and I am sure I do, then I have told you more than once by now that I wish to see what you are feeling and that I wish to hear those precious little noises you are giving away while being aroused and in so much pleasure." He darkly growled, leaning close to his brat, his hands leaning atop the kitchen table and his dark eyes fixing the boy sternly. "You are not to hide your feelings from me or I will have to take more drastic measures soon." He added, inwardly smirking at the boy that looked up at him startled and barely able to breathe. "And believe me, I do have a few very nice ideas, at least nice for me to watch."

Well, Severus Snape knew exactly what he was doing to his younger bond, to the young man that was his submissive, he knew exactly that he was driving him mad. But well, the boy was not the only one who had a hard time controlling himself and for a moment he had to close his eyes, while he leaned his hands onto the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath. Merlin! That boy and his squirming, the delicious gasps and sobs he was giving away, it was driving _him_ mad!

"Sir?" The boy's questioning voice got him out of his musings and he turned, lifting a questioning eyebrow at his brat. "I … I've finished … the essay." The brat then said, his voice rough with strain.

"Very well, follow me." He said, leading the way to the living room where he sat down into his favourite armchair and then extending his hand with an ordered "stand still, legs slightly apart, hands at your sides", demanding the boy handing over his – _'__work__'_ – for he was sure that it couldn't be called thus, but well, he hadn't expected anything to begin with, knowing that the boy wouldn't be able to write anything that would make sense in his current condition.

Of course he knew that he was torturing himself just as much as he was torturing his brat, but well, seeing that it was the most pleasant torture he ever had endured – he enjoyed it greatly, and with another inward smirk he watched the boy's desperate struggle to stand still and to keep his hands still as well, knowing how evil it was of him to have him standing there where he couldn't find any kind of relief like he had before in form of the seat of the chair he had been sitting on, squirming to give movement and pressure to his painfully throbbing private areas, while he now not even could close his legs to create pressure and therefore relief this way and while he couldn't even get his trembling fingers busy to get his mind off his strain.

"Might it be that you have been a bit – distracted while composing this piece of work?" He asked, his best smirk on his face. "Because this essay surely is not done to my satisfaction under normal circumstances."

"Uhm …" The boy made and he lifted his eyebrow at him in question. "I guess so …"

"You guess what, Mr. Potter?" He asked.

"That I've been a bit … distracted … yes." The boy stammered.

"And that might be – why?" He asked, knowing that he was being evil.

"Uhm … well … I mean … you see … Merlin! … Please sir … just … _please_ …" The boy then stammered, shaking violently with the weaves of pleasure that seemed to wash over him, barely able to stand and his voice hoarse – and he couldn't keep him in his misery any longer. Slowly he got off his armchair and went over to his submissive who watched him with a desperate look in his green eyes, placing the tips of his fingers beneath his brat's chin and softly ordered "stand still" while he started to undress the boy that was his.

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**To be continued**

**Next time in I just wanted to ask**

_The __evilness __of __a __Potions __Master__ – __and__ the __evilness __of __an __uncle _…

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter … thank you …

**house cup**

_alright, the question some of you have put up in my head, about being Slytherin or Gryffindor - or maybe any other house - it never had left my head so far and so I have thought about something … I don't know if it even will work, but well -_

_starting on January first, 2012 - just give away the house you'd be in, in your reviews, and any house will get a oint per review … I'll add them together and then I'll start a house cup … like I said, I don't know if it will work even, if you like the idea - but well, I'll take the risk and try it …_

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**September 13th, 2013**

**Dear readers,**

just wish to inform you about another story – "… and sit a while with me …" – which will shortly start on the Profile of mrs. trabi here on fanfiction.

you will find some known persons in this story, and you will find one or another known incident in the story because the author of the story is me, even though I am posting this story not on my own profile but on my daughter's, and for several reasons so – one of it being because it's a rather unique story compared to my others.

more details you will learn while visiting mrs. trabi's profile:

www fanfiction net /u/2473886/mrs-trabi


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